


A Fox's Tale

by spellwovennight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bookstores, M/M, Mentions of Liam Dunbar - Freeform, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Malia Hale/Kira Yukimura - Freeform, Minor Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Past Character Death, Texting, You've Got Mail AU, car crash, mentions of braeden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 76,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwovennight/pseuds/spellwovennight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles loves A Fox's Tale, a bookstore he took over after his mom dies.  Unfortunately, a box store, Hale's Wolftastic Books, is moving to town and is going to be tough competition, but he has his friends, family, and texting buddy, Mr. Grumpy, to help him through it. </p><p>Derek is annoyed to be moving to Beacon Hills to help start up the newest branch of Hale's Wolftastic Books and to help Laura prepare for her upcoming wedding.  He's surprised to find himself falling in love with the town, and it's inhabitants.  If only his texting conversations with Smartass weren't emotionally confusing.  </p><p>Or a You've Got Mail AU that nobody asked for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this way too long. I finished the last 50k during Nanowrimo and have been sitting on it ever since. Tons of thanks to SecondStar to get do nanowrimo in the first place and introducing me to my fellow sterek sprinters who kept me motivated to write during the month of November. I'm so glad to have met all of you, and I love you guys so much <3 (mikkimouse, infectedcolors, Vendelin, literaryoblivion, bleepobleep, fauvistfly,second-star, and frek). 
> 
> I can't thank mikkimouse enough for all her wonderful editing and suggestions. Hopefully, I can remember them as I continue to write and become a better writer in the future.
> 
> My outlook on bookstores and business is not accurate or well researched.

 “Stiles? Stiles!  Wake up!”

Stiles groaned and shoved his head, face down, further under his pillow.   He regretted the day that he gave Lydia a key to his apartment – except he didn’t.  She had stolen his key and made a copy of it. The sucky part was that he couldn’t even blame her since he had done it to her first. 

“Get. Up,” was accompanied by Lydia hitting him with a newspaper on each word.  He groaned again as he pulled himself up into a sitting position and saw bright, red letters that read 5:06 AM on his alarm clock.  He narrowed his eyes in annoyance.  He didn't use his key for such nefarious purposes. Well, nothing nefarious like being woken up at the ass crack of dawn.

“Lydia, what the hell?” Stiles snapped with as much gusto as he could muster in his barely awake state.  “It’s five in the morning. What are you doing here?”

Lydia Martin, his gorgeous, redheaded friend, was dressed for work in a very tight, and short, pencil skirt and a pair of killer heels.  What Stiles can’t figure out is why she decided to take a detour to his place on her commute to work.

“Move over.” She shoved him over and daintily sat on the edge of his bed.  “I have just obtained crucial, necessary information to your life.”

He looked at her with disbelief. “And what, exactly, is this necessary information?”

“I know what the building at the end of Main Street is -“

He flopped back down to the mattress. “Lyyyyyyyyyyyyyydiaaaa.”

He knew exactly what she was talking about.  About a year ago, a few stores at the end of Main Street had been bought and shut the entire section down.  It was in limbo for a while.  No stores had opened, but a lot of gossip went around about what was going to be moving in. Then, fairly recently, the stores were torn down completely and in their place, a new, big, shiny building had been slowly erected.  However, no one knew what it was supposed to be or who had bought the buildings out.

It had been driving Lydia crazy.  She liked knowing what was happening in her hometown, and she was very good at getting what she wanted. But no matter whom she played, from the mayor to the construction site supervisor, no one would tell her what it was supposed to be.

Stiles, on the other hand, didn’t give a shit.

“A bookstore!” She hit him with the newspaper again. “Hale’s Wolftastic Books, to be exact!”

“What!” Stiles squawked, jolting straight back up.

“Exactly,” she hissed, throwing the newspaper at his face. “You’re going to need a game plan, Stilinski.”

Stiles’ eyes bugged out as he read the front cover of the Beacon Hills’ Review, which confirmed Lydia’s news.

“Now,” she stated primly, after she made sure Stiles was finally taking the matter seriously. “I have work to get to.  You, don’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”  She gave him a pointed look as she stood up.  “I’m serious.”  Then, she turned and left.

“That’s it?” Stiles sputtered after her.  But she didn’t even pause; he could hear her heels clicking on his fake wood floor as she left his apartment.

“Well, crap,” Stiles muttered as he looked down at the newspaper in front of him. “BIG SECRET FINALLY REVEALED: HALE’S WOLFTASTIC BOOKS COMING SOON” stared back at him in black and white.

It wasn’t a surprise to Stiles that the new building was for a chain because it was the only thing that he could see buying and demolishing a whole bunch of buildings. Nothing else in Beacon Hills took up that much space besides the hospital, high school, and the limited number of corporate offices at the edge of town. 

But Stiles hadn’t been expecting a bookstore.  Hale’s Wolftastic Books _was_ a big corporation. It was a popular chain known for its cheap books, free Wi-Fi, and enticing café treats.  Previously, he hadn’t given a shit because he never thought it would affect him and his own shop.   He owned and ran A Fox’s Tale, a children’s bookstore on Main Street located next to the comic store.  Now, though, he had a rival bookstore to worry about.

Stiles stared at the headline as he felt all the horrible ‘what if’ scenarios start forming in his brain.

“Fuck, it’s too early for this shit,” Stiles mumbled.  He squeezed his eyes shut and threw the paper on the floor before he rolled over and forced himself to go back to sleep.

* * *

Two hours later, Stiles was leaning up against his kitchen counter, texting as he drank his morning coffee.

Stiles  
**Dude, my day hasn’t even started and I’ve already gotten the worst news.  Please tell me one of us is having a good day?**

Stiles sighed as he pushed send.  He gathered up his things and started to make his way to the shop, unable to enjoy the lovely spring weather because he was trying to ignore the nerves that were starting to jump inside him.

His first instinct was to full-out panic. How the fuck was a small-town children’s bookstore going to compete against the ever-popular Hale’s Wolfastic Books?  A Fox’s Tale’s days were numbered, which would mean an end to the store his mom took over, and that he strived to continue after her death in her image.

On the other hand, the downtown of Beacon Hills was almost all comprised of locally owned shops, boutiques, and eateries.  There was no way they were going to stand for a chain coming in, especially if it competed with one of their own, Stiles reasoned.  He was actually surprised that Hale’s was even bothering to try to make a move in Beacon Hills.

When Stiles reached the store, he pulled out his keys and opened the door to let himself in.

Originally, A Fox’s Tale had been furnished completely with wood.  There were hard wood floors, wood bookcases, and elaborate wood wainscoting, which wasn’t very exciting or appropriate for a children’s bookstore.  It all changed thirty years ago, when Stiles’ mother, Claudia, had taken over the shop.  She had made a point to add color and life to the place.  She got some local artists to donate their art.  And it became tradition that at the end of every school year, the high school’s drama department would drop off various props and set pieces that would find homes along the sides of the bookcases or hang from the ceiling.  There were masks of ogres and huge dragon scales.  One of the local artists had painted a side of a bookcase as a tower and attached a spire to the top of it.  There was even yellow yarn, or hair, flowing down from the open window at the top of the spire.

Stiles’ personal favorite touch of his mom’s was the multitude of floor pillows that took up a corner of the store.  They were all sorts of crazy colors and patterns.  Some of the fabrics were of popular book and pop culture characters like Winnie-the-Pooh and Clifford the Big Red Dog. The kids that came by on a regular basis had a floor pillow they each considered their own and would rush over right away to claim it.

Stiles’ dad had always thought that the interior had reflected Claudia’s personality: full of joy and excitement.

His mother was another reason A Fox’s Tale might be able to overcome Hale’s Wolftastic Books, Stiles thought as he stepped behind the cash register to open the door to his office.

Everyone had loved Claudia.  While brightening the interior of the shop, she managed to get the local talent noticed by the public. Local artists started to get commissions from patrons that saw their work in the shop.  Claudia was one of the members of the community that helped get the weekly farmer’s market up and running and started Story Time as an activity in conjunction with it.  She brought in local authors that would have readings and book signings at the shop. Children’s authors were during the day, and non-children book writers came at night.

And, Claudia basically started running a daycare at A Fox’s Tale.  Not officially, but when parents were in a tight spot, Claudia had no problem welcoming their children to the shop.  That’s how Stiles had met his best friends. Scott McCall was dropped off for a couple hours at a time when his dad had moved out and his mom, Melissa, had shifts at the hospital.  Lydia Martin was another frequent visitor to the store because Natalie, Lydia’s mom, had started working at the store and brought her daughter along.  They weren’t the only ones. Various children had been dropped off through the years, all loving the enigmatic Claudia.

These were traditions that Stiles carried along, even now, thirteen years after his mother’s death.  Those things would surely keep the shop up and running, Stiles thought.  Especially since a lot of those children were still living out their lives in Beacon Hills.

Stiles was waiting for his work computer to load when his phone buzzed from his pocket. He reached in to see that he had a response from the text he sent earlier that morning.  

Mr. Grumpy  
**No.**

Stiles rolled his eyes as he replied.

Stiles  
**Should have known better than to ask Mr. Grumpy for some brightness and cheer.  Today’s going to be the death of me.  If I don’t respond, I’ve been killed to death.**

Although Stiles was managing to rationalize that A Fox’s Tale was going to be fine, he had a feeling the citizens of Beacon Hills were going to be freaking out.  If Lydia, calm and collected Lydia, had felt the need to wake him at five am in the morning, he couldn’t imagine with the Beacon Hillians were going to do. 

* * *

 

Derek looked down at the table as his cell flashed with a new text. He smiled when he saw who it was from, and not-so-subtly pulled his phone underneath the table to reply.

Derek  
**Drama King.  
****You’re not the one having to deal with my family. I wish I were an only child.**

“Derek Hale, you are listening, aren’t you?” Talia Hale said, staring at him.

Derek cringed and forced himself not to look down at his phone.  “Of course, Mom.”

“Then, put your phone away.  This conversation does involve you.”

Cora made a grab for his phone.“Is it that boy of yours?”

Derek dodged Cora’s grasp and put his phone in his pocket. “No.”

“Liar,” Cora sneered. “You don’t text anyone else.”

Derek could feel the heat rise on his cheeks.  That wasn’t entirely true.  In fact, if he hadn’t been trying to text someone else when he got his new phone, he would have never been in contact with Smartass to begin with.

Just over a year ago, Derek had mistyped Laura’s new number into his phone and ended up in an infuriating conversation with someone he thought was a smartass teenager. He was surprised to find out that the stranger was a twenty-three year old, successful adult with his own business.  Somehow, Derek found himself holding actual conversations due to the random texts Smartass would send to him. 

Cora was gleeful to point out that he must like the boy, if he continued to text him and not block his number like a normal person would do.  Derek had tried to deny the accusations for the first few months, but now, it was hard to deny how much he looked forward to those daily exchanges.

“Children! We are not at the dinner table. We are having a business meeting,” their mother rebuked them.

Their father, William, snorted.

“There’s not much of a difference.  We talk business at dinner all the time.  It’s what happens when your entire family is in a business together.Besides, the main reason for this meeting is a personal matter. Unless you’ve forgotten that Laura’s getting married?”

And, there it was. Right now, Laura, Derek’s sister, and her marriage was the bane of Derek’s existence. The story was this. Derek’s mother had grown up in a town called Beacon Hills in California.  The only bookstore there was lacking in every which way for his literature-enthusiastic mother, and it was her desire to make a better bookstore that had resulted in Hale’s Wolftastic Books.  The Hales and their store were living and operating out of New York City. Although they had opened up Hale’s Wolftastic Books all across the country, they had yet to open one in Beacon Hills. Until now.

It was actually Laura’s idea and initiative to get a store up and going where Talia grew up.  Laura had been working up to it for a couple of years.   About a year ago, she managed to convince Talia to open a branch in Beacon Hills, and had been an easy sell. Talia had been thrilled with the idea since she grew up there.  The hard part was that Laura fought to be in charge of the branch. Talia wanted to do it herself, but William had to remind her that she had a job in the city running the entire company.

To prepare the branch and keep their mom out of it, Laura made the decision to move to Beacon Hills.  While she was there  His name was Sean Murphy, and he was divorced with two small children, Jenny and Max.

For once in her life, Laura put her personal life ahead of work. Laura’s priorities shifted from the Beacon Hills branch to her wedding and new family, which meant more time than anticipated to get the store up and going.As luck would have it, Derek was elected to be the one to take over for Laura and help her out with the wedding.

Derek had no desire to leave New York.  He liked the city.  He wasn’t the most outgoing person by nature and the bustle of the city allowed him to remain impersonal with his surroundings.  The smaller towns, like Beacon Hills, where he visited for business, always had people coming up to him and trying to talk to him. They were always really friendly and trying to be friends.  He didn’t need new friends.  He was fine with the friends, or friend, Cora would cough pointedly, he had.   He was also really close to his family, all of whom lived in New York City.   The idea of leaving them for such a long period of time already made Derek miss them.  He was missing Laura like crazy, although he would never admit to it.

“You should really send Cora to take charge of the Beacon Hills position,” Derek tried to state reasonably to his parents. Cora reached over and pinched him, and he flinched.

“Oh? And why that might be?” Talia asked. Derek knew she was only humoring him, but he had to try something.

“Cora is perfectly qualified to take over the store, besides she would be a lot more helpful to Laura for the wedding.  I don’t know shi- anything. Uh, anything about weddings.”

His uncle, Peter, full out laughed at that, “Can you imagine Laura and Cora trying to plan a wedding together?  It would end in a brawl.”

Derek winced. It was true that Laura and Cora’s tastes did not go hand in hand.  Not to mention, they both shared the Hale trait of being tough as nails and just as stubborn.

“But at least Cora would know what Laura would be talking about,” Derek tried to argue back.

“Derek,” his mom stated, “I’m not sending you to help plan the wedding. Laura and Sean are going to be able to handle the wedding details perfectly fine on their own.   They’re really going to need someone to help watching over the kids.  And the kids love you.”

Which was true. Laura had brought the Murphys to New York to visit a month before they announced their engagement. The kids didn’t seem to care much for Cora, who didn’t have any patience for them.  Although, Derek mused, she would probably be fiercely protective if she did ever have kids.

Derek loved them. He had no problem answering the infinite number of questions that Jenny seemed to have or putting Max on his shoulders so he could see better.  And they enjoyed spending time with him too.  Jenny had called him his favorite before she left, and Max had silently given Derek his orange Hot Wheels car, which Sean had said was Max’s favorite.

“Cora has a separate project that she has been heading for a couple months now, “Talia explained patiently  “And, you’ve opened more stores than she has.  You’re perfectly cable of opening Wolftastic Books in Beacon Hills. I trust you.”

Great, his mom was _trusting_ him with her most coveted project, which was a shame.  He was sure that Cora would enjoy it more than he would.  Sometimes he was tired of his job and yearned to return to what drove their family into the business.  The books.  But, he could never say no to his mother, or find the courage to leave his job. 

He huffed out a fine and his mom smiled.

“Great. You’re not going by yourself.” Talia continued as picked up a stack of papers.

“I’m not?” Derek asked.

“I’m also sending Boyd.  Laura and I are working on setting an apartment for you two while you’re there.  After talking to Laura and Grams, I think it’s the best if you bring Bailey with you.”

Thank god for small miracles.  Boyd was his best friend, and they had worked on multiple projects together.  Boyd’s composure was sure to come in handy in what was surely going to be multiple crises.  The fact that he was able to bring Bailey, his dog that lived with his grandparents further north of the city, was just another plus.

Talia continued, “I’ve already figured out the travel arrangements.  Here are your tickets.  You should probably head home and get everything ready.  Your plane leaves on Thursday.”

“But that’s in two days,” Derek said incredulously.  Two days was not enough time to prepare for to move to Beacon Hills _and_ learn what he needed before he took over for Laura.

Talia didn’t even blink.  “You better start packing then.”

Derek dropped his head on the table.  Cora cackled at his misfortunes.

* * *

 

Stiles found time to respond to Mr. Grumpy’s last text during his lunch break. He grabbed his Stouffer’s microwaved macaroni and cheese and sat down in his office, leaving his door wide open so he could see the checkout counter.  

Stiles  
**You talk about your sisters too much to actually want them gone.**

Stiles was only on his second mouthful of too-hot noodles when his phone vibrated.

Mr. Grumpy  
**I talk about them torturing me.  It’s the exact reason I want them gone.**

Stiles  
**Nope. You liiiike it.  It makes you feel loved.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**You mean if your older sister started passing out pictures of when you were five and dressed up as a pink tooth fairy for the school play because she wanted to make you appear more approachable, it would make you feel loved?**

Stiles choked on his overcooked noodles as he fought to laugh and breathe at the same time.

Isaac glanced back at him as he worked the cash register. “You’re s-e-x-t-i-n-g now?  I don’t think that’s very appropriate.”

When Stiles went to protest, he managed to choke even further.  After he coughed out a noodle and took a long drink of water, he glared at Isaac.

“We are not se –nnng.”  Stiles clamped his mouth shut as he spied customers on the floor.    “That isn’t happening, and you know it!” Stiles hissed at Isaac. “I don’t even know what the guy looks like!”

“Bet you’ve thought about it,”  Isaac drawled.

“What! No!” Stiles squawked irately, but as his face spoke the truth as it heated up in embarrassment.

Isaac smirked. “Oh, so you haven’t imagined him that he’d be. . . what was it again?” He used his fingers to gesture quotations. “‘Fit and muscular with thick dark hair that you can just pull’, uh,” he paused as he looked at the children in the shop, “put your hands through.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped open in indignation.  He had only ever mentioned that to Scott when they had both gotten really drunk one night. And it’s not _his_ fault that Mr. Grumpy had mentioned that all his sisters all have brown hair or that he goes to the gym after work every day and boasted to Stiles that he could bench press 350.  Stiles’ assumptions of what Mr. Grumpy looked like were only natural.

“Scott told you! That, that,” Stiles sputtered.  “He’s the worst best friend to ever be bested!”

“Or maybe he just likes me more,” Isaac remarked casually.

Stiles saw red.

“Hi guys! How is everything over here?” Stiles’ other employee, Kira, skipped over.

“It’s just a barrel of laughs,” Stiles forced out through clenched teeth as he glared at Isaac.  

“Uh huh.” Kira looked from Stiles to Isaac. “I could actually use your help, right now, Isaac.  Do you mind going over to help the Jacobsons?  I think Sarah would like 'The Magic Tree House' series, and you know it better than I do.” Kira stepped behind the check-out counter with a smile.

Isaac leered at Stiles before he went out on the floor to help Sarah.

Stiles felt his anger evaporate as Isaac disappeared, and as he glanced to Kira’s attempting to be optimistic smiling face.  Kira turned out to be an absolute godsend for the store.  She was a college student with sporadic hours, but Stiles always tried to schedule her when he and Isaac were doing a shift together. Kira kept the peace between them. Or guilted them into working semi-nicely together.  Unfortunately, that schedule didn’t always work out.

Isaac was Scott’s college buddy.  After they graduated and Scott returned to Beacon Hills for assistant position at Deaton’s veterinary clinic, Isaac came with.  Stiles and Isaac didn’t exactly get along.  Stiles thought Isaac was a hipster asshole, and was confident in thinking that Isaac didn’t that didn’t know what the word "nice" meant.  Isaac was also trying to steal Stiles’ title as Scott’s Best Friend, which might have something to do with Stiles’ feelings.  Scott, the traitor, was of the opinion that they didn’t get along because they were too much alike.

While Scott had the clinic and Stiles had the store, Isaac had yet to find a job. Stiles had no idea why the imbecile decided to follow Scott to a place without job opportunities, but in Beacon Hills he stayed.  It didn’t take long for Scott to beg Stiles to give Isaac a chance at the shop.

After Scott giving Stiles the wounded puppy dog routine for a week straight, Stiles finally relented and took Isaac on a trial basis only.  Unfortunately for Stiles, Isaac turned out to be great with kids. When Stiles and Isaac worked together, they spent most of the day scaring customers away with their not-so-kid-friendly snark and angry banter.  Kira was really good and preventing Stiles and Isaac from killing each other. Her bubbliness would counteract any evil mood they put each other for the day and could spot the outbursts before they hit.  

Stiles breathed out slowly and turned to Kira.  “Thanks,” he told her quietly.

Kira smiled in response before turning to help the customers that had just approached the desk. “What started it this time?” she asked Stiles as she rang up the books.

She glanced back as Stiles was reaching for his phone.  “Oh!  You were texting your boyfriend again?”

Stiles froze, his hand inches away from his phone and jerked his hand back. He forced out a laugh. “No!  No boyfriend here.”

Kira smiled fondly and handed the customers their bag and receipt and then went and stood at the threshold of his office.  “It’s okay to admit that you like him, you know. Nothing bad will happen if you do.”

Stiles scowled at her.  “And what makes you think I like him?”

Kira laughed. "Well, you get these small secret smiles when you text him. And when he doesn’t respond right away, you stare longingly at your phone.”

“I do not stare longingly at my phone!”  Stiles pouted.  “I just get bored and need things to, you know, distract me.  On my phone,”  he finished lamely.

“You also seem happier in general since you two first started talking.  Everyone says so.”

“Everyone does not-“

“Scott, Lydia, Allison, your dad, Mrs. McCall, Mrs. Martin, and even Isaac has noticed it.”

Stiles blinked. It’s not like it hasn’t been brought up or they haven’t teased him about it before, but everyone talking about it like that was a little weird.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” he finally responded.

“Of course not,” Kira cheerily replied and then her smile faded.  “So, everyone’s been talking about the new bookstore.”

The dread that had been festering in his stomach every time anyone mentioned Hale’s Wofltastic books, which was often, grew a little bit more.  They had all been very supportive and talked about how they would never shop at Hale’s, but Stiles didn’t like thinking about it all the same.          

“Yeah” Stiles replied, attempting a smile.  “It’s going to be fine, Kira,” he said softly as he tried to ignore the rolling of his stomach. 

Just the thought that something was threatening his mom’s shop made him feel sick. But what was even worse was that a part of him, really, tiny, miniscule, almost non-existent piece of him that was probably bigger than he wanted to admit, was thinking about the possibilities that lay beyond the store.   In turn, that sensation only made him feel guilty and even sicker.

When Mr. Grumpy texted him, it was the first time he had been able to stop thinking about it all day.

Kira put on an equally weak smile, nodded and went back to the cash register.

Stiles waited until her back was turned and her attention was properly diverted before he reached back out for his phone to text Mr. Grumpy back.   Only because he needed the distraction and the chance of laughter. Nothing about how much he liked texting his friend.   

Stiles  
**Pink tooth fairy?  Awwww, was pink your favorite color?  Did you get to wear a tiara and a tutu?**

Mr. Grumpy  
**Shut up.**

Stiles  
**OMG! You totally did!  Are there any pictures you want to send me?**

Mr. Grumpy  
**What were you in your kindergarten play? Little Miss Muffett?**

Stiles  
**Psh, I was a fox.  A kick-ass fox!**

Mr. Grumpy  
**A kick-ass fox? With little ears and a fuzzy tail? I’m sure your scrawny ass made a real menacing five year old.**

Stiles  
**Who are you calling scrawny?  I could bench press you, if you wanted.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**You’re the one that complains how skinny you are when I tell you I’m at the gym.**

Stiles  
**I was still more menacing than a tooth fairy anyways.**

“Stiles, a little help out here!” Kira called out.

Stiles glanced at the time and quickly jumped up.  He might have overrun his lunch break into the afterschool rush where parents and children always filled up the shop. Stiles quickly finished and sent his text, shoved his phone into his jean’s pocket, and rushed out to help out on the floor in better spirits than before.

Stiles

**Gotta go, children to save!  You should wear your old costume for a day, give your co-workers something to look at ;)**

* * *

At the end of the day, Stiles’ pseudo-family had gathered at the shop while Stiles, Kira, and Isaac closed up.   There was his dad, the McCalls, Allison, and the Martins. Stiles’ dad, the Sheriff, stopped after his shift.  Scott had taken off early from the vet’s office and brought Allison Argent with him. Stiles wasn’t sure what to think of that.  Not that he didn’t like Allison or that she was there, he liked Allison just fine.  Scott and she dated through most of high school, and Stiles and Allison ended up becoming good friends. After Scott and Allison went through a messy break-up during their first year of college, Stiles was the one to stay in contact with her. Now that Scott and Allison were both back in Beacon Hills on a semi-permanent basis, they had decided to be friends with benefits. Personally, Stiles just thought they were just as horny as they were in high school and were too scared to talk about the relationship part.  Stiles was pretty sure someone’s heart was going to get broken.

Melissa McCall, Scott’s mom who had practically helped raise Stiles after his mom had passed away, had come in after her shift at the hospital ended a couple hours ago.  She had passed the time by gossiping with some of the moms visiting the store. Natalie Martin had come in an hour later.  She was A Fox’s Tale’s off the books accountant and had immediately started going over the books. Last to enter was Lydia. She was the only person Stiles knew that could spend twelve hours in a lab and still look as put together as when she started, well her mother probably could’ve pulled it off if she wanted too.

When Lydia entered right at closing time, everyone stopped what he or she were doing and gathered around the front desk where Stiles was currently closing out the register.   He paused and looked up from the computer.

“Uhhh,” he said intelligently, blinking at them.  He wondered how he missed that everyone had appeared at the shop.  To be honest, he should’ve been expecting some sort of ambush. Lydia’s words from early that morning echoed in his head.  _You need a game plan, Stilinski._

“What did you do, Stiles?”  his dad asked, sighing heavily.

Lydia frowned and looked from the Sheriff to Stiles.  “You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?” she asked.

“No.” Stiles huffed. “Why would you say that?” That earned him a few snorts.

Lydia just pursed her lips in response.

“Amazingly enough he didn’t,” Kira said, coming to his rescue.  “I mean nothing more than usual.”

“Hey!” Stiles exclaimed.

Kira glanced at him.  “What else do you call tripping over the toys and ramming your head into the wall?”

“Not my fault,” he muttered before addressing Lydia. “So what?  You just called an impromptu meeting without asking me? I feel like I’m being approached by the mafia.” He gestured to the group at large.

She shrugged. “I didn’t need to. Everyone planned to show up because they care about the store.”  She paused and then added, “And you **.”**

Stiles sighed and finally stepped away from the register and speak to his friends and family. “There really isn’t any reason for you all to be here.”

“Like Lydia said.” Scott started saying as he went behind the counter and bumped shoulders with Stiles before he leaned on the counter next to him.  “We care about you, buddy.  And this thing is kinda big.”

Stiles smiled appreciatively and bumped their shoulders back.  “Thank you, but there is no problem.”  He glanced around at the annoyed looks on everyone's faces.  He pushed himself up from the counter and stood straight.  “Seriously.  You’re completely overreacting.  Everything’s going to be fine.  Completely a-okay here.”

“Stiles,” the Sheriff started in a pained tone.

“No. You know what? No. I’m not ignoring the problem. I swear – it’s just not going to be a problem.”  Stiles started in a level toned voice that quickly lost focused and grew more and more agitated as he spoke.

“I know you’re all worried about it.  The big bad wolf is coming to town and is going to blow the shop down. We’ve had customers in here all day talking about it.  I couldn’t ignore it if I tried.  Well, maybe I could if I . . .” Stiles trailed off as nine pairs of eyebrows were raised.

“Right.   Uh, well, anyways.  The point is they haven’t just been talking about it.  They’ve been reassuring me about it!. Which is a big deal! They talked about how much they loved my mom and how she created a great atmosphere in the store, and that I’ve managed to keep that alive!   That their kids love it here and no stupid chain is going to change that. That there’s no place they’d rather go for Story Time and Brunch on the weekends or support the local artists! All I’ve gotten is support all day. So don’t come in here now with this stupid pessimistic bullshit!  I don’t need it,“ Stiles exclaimed, gesturing wildly at the group that was starting to look part ashamed (Scott, Kira, Allison and Melissa) and part more aggravated (the Sheriff, Natalie, and Lydia).

“Downtown Beacon Hills is mainly comprised of independent businesses and mom and pop stores. No one’s going to shop at a soul sucking, impersonal, stuck-up chain store.  The town has all but promised me that they aren’t going to let anything happen to this store.  So, no. There is no problem. Hale’s Wolftastic Books is not going to be a problem.”

A silence rang across the group for a minute as everyone processed.

“Stiles –“

“Don’t, Lydia,” Stiles begged, leaning his weight on the counter. All of a sudden, he felt really tired and emotionally drained.  He might have decided on an optimistic approach due to the town’s reaction, but it had been tearing him apart from the inside since Lydia had woken him up this morning. It was his shop, and he didn’t want to fight about it.  “Just don’t.”

“We only want to help, Stiles,” Allison told him softly.

“Yeah, man. We know how much this place means to you,” Scott added.

“Not to mention that Kira and I need the jobs,” Isaac said.

Stiles rolled his eyes.  “Glad it’s so important to you, Isaac.”

Isaac just shrugged in response.

“Look, I get that you’re all here because he want to help.  And I appreciate it.  I really do.  But I believe in this store and this town.  If things change, then I know who to go to.  And I will. I promise.” 

“Okay,” Lydia replied.

Stiles looked at her skeptically, “Really?  You’re not going to fight me on this?”

“No. You made some good points, so it’s not completely rash.  And it’s your store.  I do, however, think you’re making a mistake.  But as long as you promise to ask for help when you need it, I’m not going to push. At least, not for now.” 

“But,” Scott whined, making everyone turn and look at him.  Lydia raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow. Scott coughed and turned to Stiles. “We could start a petition or something. Rally against box stores and argue that they’re bad for the community.  It’s practically law here anyways.  It can be like the how you can’t have your grass longer than a foot or something!”

“It’s eight inches,” Lydia corrected him. 

Scott rolled his eyes.  “Whatever, you know what I mean.  Isn’t it better to nip it in the bud?” 

Stiles tapped down on quickly building panic trying to overload his system. It was fine.  They were going to be fine.  The store was going to be fine. 

 “He said no,” Lydia reprimanded Scott.

“But-“ Scott whined again. 

“No, Scott,” Stiles said, pretending like a large part of it wasn’t because he couldn’t deal with it right now.

Scott turned to Lydia, but she only rose her eyebrows and pierced her lips. Scott sighed and leaned against the counter. 

“Fine,” he grumbled. 

“Thanks,” Stiles muttered to her.

Lydia nodded, and then it seemed like the meeting was adjourned.  Fifteen minutes later the shop was empty save for Stiles and his dad.

“I know how much this place means to you, Stiles,” the sheriff said standing behind the counter.  The wall was covered in photographs of his mom in the store since the opening to her very last workday. Stiles just knew he was looking at them with sad eyes. “How much it reminds you of your mom.”

Stiles finished locking up his office and went to stand next to his father. They were both quiet for a few minutes while they looked at the photos.  “It reminds me of her, too,” the Sheriff finally continued, lightly brushing his thumb up against her replicated face. “I know that you’re being really positive about this, but if something happens.  If it doesn’t work out as you want it, I just want you to know it’s okay. It’s okay with me, and it would be okay with her too.”

Stiles nodded, feeling his eyes start to water.  “I know, Dad.”  And he did. It wasn’t the first time that they had this conversation.  It had happened right after he graduated from high school and decided to take over the shop instead of going off to college.

“No matter what happens,” the sheriff rubbed his hand against his own eyes,  “I love you.  She did too.”

Stiles nodded again before pulling his dad in for a hug.  He didn’t trust himself to speak.

* * *

 

Stiles collapsed on his bed as soon as he got home.  He didn’t turn on the lights or anything.  Simply walked in, locked the door and went directly to his bed. He wanted nothing more to crawl under his covers, fall asleep and pretend like the day hadn’t happen. Or just forget about Hale’s completely.

Stiles groaned a kicked his shoes off his feet and decided it was too much effort to move. He was perfectly content to fall asleep as is, in his clothes.

And then his phone vibrated.  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Stiles muttered as he reached blindly for his phone.  He blinked as the harsh light from the screen hit his eyes.

Mr. Grumpy  
**Did you survive?  Or can I celebrate a quiet life from here on out?**

Stiles didn’t exactly smile, it had been a long day, but his frown lines definitely lessened as his face relaxed when he saw who the text was from.

Stiles  
**Psssh. You would so totally miss me, dude. What would you do without me?**

Mr. Grumpy  
**Well, I’d no longer get in trouble for texting during business meetings. Or be forced to listen to lame jokes all the time.\**

Stiles  
**Oh, so it’s my fault you don’t turn your phone on silent? Or vibrate like a normal person? It just proves you like me and my jokes. Which are so not lame. The Mario joke was a classic.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**Because denim, denim, denim reads so well over texts.**

Stiles  
**No wonder you don’t have any friends, man. Can’t even appreciate a good joke.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**I have friends.**

Stiles  
**Your sisters don’t count.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**I have other friends.**

Stiles  
**Neither do coworkers.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**. . .I know his girlfriend?  
****And we were friends before we were co-workers.**

Stiles cracked a smile.  The reason they had continued texting one another after the first wrong text was because they were both a little lonely.  They both worked in family businesses so their friends were also close with their families. And the conversations were always fun. Stiles might have teased him too much in the beginning, but now Stiles would get it as much as he gave it. As much as Stiles loved Scott, Lydia, and his dad, he felt more comfortable texting a faceless stranger about his insecurities and his mom.  The faceless part was starting to get a little old, but it didn’t seem like that line was going to be crossed anytime soon.

Stiles  
**Don’t worry about it.  You’re really my only friend outside my family of friends too**

Mr. Grumpy  
**I’m glad.**

Stiles  
**You’re glad that I’m your only friend outside my family? Wow, possessive much?**

Mr. Grumpy  
**Don’t be an asshole.  I’m glad we’re friends.**

Stiles  
**Me too.**

Stiles fell asleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

Derek and Boyd were welcomed to Beacon Hills by hugs and small squeals from Jenny and Max.  

“Hi, you two,” Derek said as he squatted down to gather them up in his arms to give them a hug.    

“Guess what! Guess what!” Jenny loudly exclaimed while she pulled on his shirtsleeves.  Meanwhile, Max stared up at Boyd.

“What?”

“Daddy’s going to marry Laura!  And Laura said we get call her Mom!  And you get to be Uncle Derek! Can we call you Uncle Derek now?”

“I don’t see why not,” Derek replied, pulling on one of her braids.  He received another hug for his response.

Boyd bent down next to Derek and introduced himself.  “Hi, I’m a friend of Laura and Derek’s.  You must be Jenny and Max.”

Jenny nodded proudly and stated, “I’m seven.”  She stuck out her tiny hand to Boyd, who shook it.

“It’s nice to meet you.”  He glanced over to Max who was still staring at him.

“You’re really big,” Max whispered.

All the adults laughed at that, and Boyd told him he might be just as big one day.  Derek hadn’t thought Max’s eyes could get any bigger.

“Are you gonna stay down there all day or are you going to say hello to your favorite sister?” Laura demanded from behind Jenny.

Derek rolled his eyes as he gets up and ignored the favorite sister remark. “Congratulations,” he murmured as he gives Laura a hug.

“Thanks,” she replied as she squeezed him extra hard.

“It’s nice to see you again, Sean,” Derek said as they exchanged a quick handshake. Then, he turned and gestured to Boyd. “And this is Boyd. He’ll be helping with the store.”

“Among other things,” Boyd added.  “Congratulations. From the sounds of it you got the entire Hale pack to approve of you.  That’s a feat.”

Seans laughed good-naturedly. “Laura keeps saying that. But I think it was the town and the kids that really won them over. “

Boyd nodded. “Mrs. Hale talks about this place all the time.  I think she’s excited that you’re giving her an excuse to come visit.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Laura said, waving off the conversation.  “Have you two gotten all your bags?  The car’s this way.” 

“Everything except Bailey.  They said to pick her up on the south side of the airport,” Derek explained.

Laura’s left eyebrow rose, “You really brought Bailey with you?  I thought Mom was kidding.”

“Yes, I brought Bailey with me,” Derek stated defensively. “I couldn’t have left her alone for over a year.  You know no one else visits Gram’s that often. “

“I’m not helping you take care of her.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Derek growled.

“Fine, let’s go get your dog.”

“Dog?” Jenny chirped excitedly.

Both Sean and Laura glared at him.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Derek, Boyd and Bailey were all moved into the new apartment. It was on the bottom floor of the complex and had a sliding door that led directly outside, which was great for Derek and Bailey.  There were two bedrooms, two full baths, a moderate size living room and a small kitchen. It looked like it was furnished completely by Ikea.  Cheap enough and practical. Apparently, Talia had been busy, because there was already a wireless router with Internet access, and a TV hooked up in the living room where the kids were watching some weird-looking Scooby Doo on Cartoon Network.

Derek had spent most of his time texting Mr. Smartass while they unpacked and while he took Bailey for a nice long walk after her dreadful plane ride.  Mr. Smartass was actually the one that suggested that kids watch Scooby Doo.  Derek made fun of him for knowing children’s programing.

Derek was glad that he had been purposely changing the password on his phone once a month since he had started talking to the Smartass due to Cora trying to hijack his phone to read his texts.  He’d caught Laura trying to get into his phone eight times since they’ve reached Beacon Hills.  Derek considers changing his password up to once a week, but if Cora never successfully cracked it, Laura didn’t stand a chance.

“Alright, kids,” Sean, said picking Max up, “Time to go.”

“But we just go here!” Jenny whined. “I don’t wanna go.”

“Jenny,” Sean told her sternly.  “Mom, Derek, and Boyd have business things to take care of. You can finish watching this episode at home.  Now say good bye and thank you.”

“But will we get to come back?” Jenny asked pouting.

“Of course, sweetie!” Laura told her. “That’s why Derek’s here! To hang out with you and Max while your daddy and I are busy.”

Jenny jumped up and went over to the chair Derek was sitting in.  “Really!  You’re here for us? Are you gonna play with us all the time? You should take us to the market this weekend!”

Derek smiled down at her. “I am here for you guys, but like Laura, I also have other things I need to work on too.  So, we’ll see. Alright?”

“Pleeeeease, Uncle Derek?” Jenny begged, giving him her puppy dog eyes.

“Well, I gue –“

“Oh, god,” Laura muttered.  “Jenny, he won’t be able to take you guys if you don’t let us get some business done now.”

“We’ll see. Okay, Jenny.  Now let’s go,” Sean added.

Jenny turned the puppy dog eyes on her father for a few seconds but Sean just stared down at her and held out his hand.  “I said it’s time to go.”

Jenny heaved out a huge sigh.  “Fine.” And then tackled Derek in his chair, giving him a big hug.  “Bye, Uncle Derek”

“Bye, Jenny.” Derek returned the hug.  “Bye, Max. Now both of you be good for your father.”

“We will!” Jenny said brightly as Sean led them out the door.

Laura was staring at Derek.  She had her judging face on. Like the one she wore when he had had fallen asleep before midnight on New Year’s Eve and didn’t have a hangover the next morning like everyone else.

“What?”

“Maybe Cora should have come instead.  _She_ wouldn’t fall prey to the puppy dog eyes.”

“Cora doesn’t have a soul.  And neither do you or Sean, apparently.  How could you say no to that face?”

“By helping raise her this past year.  It’s necessary step in evolution.  You’re going to spoil her rotten.”

“Isn’t that what uncles are supposed to do?”

“Yeah, I just don’t want you doing anything I’m going to regret.”

“ _You’re_ going to regret?”

“Yeah, like getting her a puppy that I have to clean up after or something.”

“I’m not going to get her a puppy,” Derek said exasperatedly.

“She has you eating out of the palm of her hand,” Boyd interjected.

Derek glared at him.  “Thanks for the support.”

 Boyd shrugged. “If we could actually get onto the business portion of this meeting, that would be great. I want to call Erica sometime soon.”

“Of course,” Laura said, sliding her shoes back on and grabbing her purse. “How is she by the way?”

“She is waiting for me to call her when we are through with work for the night,” Boyd said pointedly.

“Fine,” Laura scoffed.  “I can take a hint. It doesn’t mean I won’t be asking later.” Laura stared Boyd down, daring him to disagree with her.

Boyd shrugged. “As long as it’s later.”

“I thought we could pick up take-out from the Red Dragon and then head over to the store to check it out.  We can talk things over there.”  Laura headed towards the door.   

Derek grabbed his coat and shoes.  “Works for me. You’re just not allowed to eat all the potstickers, Laura.”

* * *

Hale’s Wolftastic Books were always set in large buildings, but the one on Main Street looked exceptionally large.  Maybe it only seemed that way because it dwarfed the surrounding one, sometimes two, story shops.  Hale's Wolftastic Books was four stories tall and looked like it could fit the whole rest of Main Street inside it.  It was impressive and a little intimidating.

As Laura led them inside, Derek thought that intimidating didn’t even begin to cover it. Everything seemed to be made of concrete, including some walls the back of the store for the employees. Without the bookshelves, tables, and counters lining the place, it was clear just how vast the place really was. Derek had been to other stores at this stage before, but never had one felt so empty.  Maybe, Derek mused, it was a side effect from the how large the building had looked on the outside.

Laura led Derek and Boyd over to where there was a couple of folding tables and chairs, various space heaters and a ghost light.  As they ate, Laura explained all of the supporting walls and pillars were in place, but there had been a few design changes, so they still had a lot of work left. Electrics and plumbing had just entered the equation and they weren’t going to have functional running water and lights for a while.

“This store,” Laura explained as she brought up files on her laptop, “is going to be a prototype.  We’re trying out a lot of new things to make the store greener. If they work here then we’re going to slowly start applying them in the rest of the stores.”

Derek frowned and pulled her laptop closer to him.  “If that’s so, why haven’t I heard about this?  And I’m surprised Mom let you try this out on her favorite store.” He turned and looked at Boyd, who was also looking closely at the laptop.   “Have you heard about this?”

Boyd slowly shook his head as he reached over Derek to scroll down on some of the documents. “No, I haven’t." They both paused and looked at Laura.

“That’s because Mom doesn’t know about it,”  Laura said like it was no big deal.

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up and even Boyd looked perturbed.

“What do you mean Mom doesn’t know?  How can she not know?”  Derek demanded. Everything was always run by her.  _Always_.  Plus, the Beacon Hills store was her baby, so she’d been paying special attention to what Laura had been doing with it.  And lastly, it was damn impossible to hide anything from the woman. Not a single one of the Hale siblings had ever been able to get away with a lie in front of their mother.

“No, she does not,” Laura confirmed.  “It’s something Dad and I have been working on.  I thought that our stores could improve on some things, and Dad agreed. It’s actually why I came out here and decided to implement it at the Beacon Hills location.  There’s a professor at Pacific Hills University that specializes in green technology that has been helping us.”

Derek stared blankly at Laura.  “And Mom doesn’t know?”

“No, Derek. Mom does not know.”

“Are you sure?” Disbelief was thick in his voice.

“Yes. Otherwise I wouldn’t have heard the end of it.” Laura narrowed her eyes at Derek and Boyd.  “And she isn’t going to find out.  Is that clear?”

“I don’t know how she would,” Boyd said, turning his attention back to the laptop.

Derek remained silent.

“Derek,” Laura warned.

“Why?” he finally asked.

“What?” Laura said, taken back by the question.

“Why doesn’t she know?”

Laura rolled her eyes, like she couldn’t believe he was being this slow. “As you know, this place is her baby. She wants it to go off perfectly and give the place she grew up a little something back yadda, yadda, yadda. How thrilled do you think she would be if she found out we were using it as a testing site?”

“What are you going to do when she finds out?”  They were all going to be in so much trouble.  Including him, because he now knew.

“Everything will be running smoothly by that time.  We’ll have a presentation prepared for her and everything. She’ll have to accept it.”

“And if it doesn’t?  Run smoothly?” Derek asked, his voice getting a little higher in panic as he thought about all the ways this could go wrong.

“Derek. Relax,” Laura ordered him.  “All you have to do is follow the paperwork.  Everything has been thought out and planned.”  She keeps her gaze eye level with Derek, calmly talking him through it. “There’s no reason this shouldn’t work. Other companies have gone green before. Besides you have the professor, Dad, and me to help you.  So, you’re going to calm down, and we’re going to talk about the actual challenges of this store.”  She reached over and took the laptop from Boyd and opened new files.

“What challenges?” Derek demanded.  He definitely hadn’t calmed down if the level of shrillness of his voice was any indicator. Boyd patted Derek on the back.

“Chill, Derek. I’m sure it’s nothing we haven’t dealt with before.  It’s probably just getting the small town to adapt to a large chain.”  Boyd glanced over at Laura, “Right?”

“Correct.” She replied as documents of the town history appeared on the laptop.  “The entire downtown area is composed of independent stores. All locally owned, of course. So we are going to get some standard backlash up until they get addicted to our cheap prices and our organic café.”

“Organic?” Derek asked.

“Another thing Dad and I are trying out.   We thought it would be a good selling point in the small town.”

“Of course,” Derek muttered as he started going through the documents on the computer to see how much was changed from their standard store as Laura continued talking, grabbing her iPad from her bag when Derek took hold of her computer.

“In order to minimize the backlash, we’re going to set up some key selling points to the press before we open.  The cheap books are what are going to earn us loyal customers, but we’re going to want to play up the community aspect of the store. Like the charities we donate to every year, the programs we’ve funded for low-income schools to help fight illiteracy, some of our after school specials.  We should probably start contacting publishers to draw up contracts with some local writers to have signings and readings here,” Laura said as she read off a list on her iPad.

“There’s also the activities we offer to children at the store,” Derek added.

“Which would be the after schools specials I was talking about,” Laura said; only the clenching of her jaw indicated that she was annoyed with his comment.

“But, that brings me to one of the other challenges,” Laura explained as she brought up a website for A Fox’s Tale on her iPad and then passed it around. “This is the children’s bookstore a few stores down.  It’s popular and the kids love it.” Derek and Boyd scrolled through the website as she talked. “Actually, it’s where Jenny wants you to take her to this weekend.  They serve brunch from local bakeries and do Story Time with Stiles. He’s a character and the kids absolutely love him.  Not to mention that the store already does readings and signings for adult and children books.”

“That’s why you want us to contact the publishers,”  Boyd said, connecting the information.

“Exactly,” Laura said, nodding.  “We’ll have a better chance of getting authors that way.”

The website featured a couple of images of the interior of the store one looked like it was taken from the door way and the other from the cash register, if Derek had to guess, comparing the two images.  It definitely had a homey feel to it.  Derek recognized a lot of characters that were prominent in the store’s decorations. Derek found himself actually wanting to visit the store, it reminded him of childhood and all of his favorites; there was Tock with his alarm clock and a toy red car on top of one of the shelves. He could see it being a bigger hit with the kids than the parents.  There seemed to be cushions for the kids to use on the floor, but there wasn’t a lot of sitting room or space for the adults.  He wasn’t sure how much the adults would like spending time in there. Then, Derek frowned as he remembered something.

“Laura, isn’t A Fox’s Tale the reason Mom decided to open Hale’s Wolftastic Books? I thought she hated the town’s bookstore.  She always said it felt like being in a museum and she was scared to touch anything.   This looks nothing like that.”

Laura shrugged as she took the iPad back.  “Someone else took over after Mom grew up and left. They redid it and made it their own. It really is a cute place.”

“You don’t think it’s going to be a long term problem?” Boyd asked.

“No, but I do think it’s going to put up a fight.  So, I would keep an eye on them,” Laura advised.

They discussed in further depth the press releases and rest of the store information that Laura felt the need to share.  As the night wore on, and Derek’s thoughts drifted, he couldn’t help but think of the man that had suggested Scooby Doo and what he would enjoy in a children’s section of a bookstore.

 


	2. Chapter 2

As the flowers bloomed and California reached its hottest season, Derek and Boyd met with all of Laura’s contacts for the store and had officially taken over. Mostly.  Technically, Laura was still in charge, but that really meant was getting random calls from her with specific orders or instructions she had forgotten about previously.  Derek and Boyd would be the ones that actually made it happen.

 Laura and Sean decided things were going so well with the store and the wedding planning that they decided to go on a mini-vacation for a weekend.  Derek was strong-armed into babysitting the kids.  The same weekend that Boyd was having a Skype date with his girlfriend, Erica.  All weekend. Thankfully, Derek wouldn’t have to try to explain the sounds that would be coming out of Boyd’s room or try to deter Jenny and Max from bothering him, because they were going to stay at Sean’s house. 

Derek grouchily observed that he was the only one not getting any that weekend, but he wasn’t going to complain. Jenny and Max were an excellent source of entertainment, and they didn’t comment on how much he texted.

They spent the majority of Saturday playing outside with Bailey.  Jenny tired Derek’s Czechoslovakian Wolf dog out by playing tag and many different games of fetch.  Max mostly watched with a smile on his face and asked Derek lots of questions about Bailey and other dogs. Max smiled the brightest though at the end of the day, when Bailey climbed up on the couch and sat next to him while they were watching a movie after dinner.  Max wrapped his arms around her and ended up falling asleep halfway through _Treasure Planet_. Smiling, Derek captured multiple pictures of them cuddling on his phone.  He was about to send one to Smartass to coo at his adorable to-be nephew before he remembered that they didn’t actually know one another. Instead, he sent a text.

Derek  
 **Do you have any children?  Or want children?**

Derek blinked at his phone. He hadn’t really meant to send that. He was just going to say something along the lines of dogs and children being great together. He didn’t mean to get so personal – not that they haven’t had personal conversations before, but this one felt different.  It was something you discussed with someone you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, not a texting budding.  Luckily, Derek’s phone buzzed quickly, putting him out of his misery.

Mr. Smartass  
 **Uh, no.  Not technically, at least. I mean, I kinda do? I work with a lot of children. Sometimes it feels like I do.  
** **Why? Do you?  Do you need parenting advice?  I might actually be able to help with that.  I was a menace with as a child.**

Derek  
 **You still are.  
** **And no, I don’t.  I’m babysitting my niece and nephew.  I was just curious. Right now, my nephew and dog are asleep and cuddling.**

Derek hesitated before adding

**It’s cute.  They both look really happy and peaceful.**

He didn’t want to come off as too much as a sap but he also really wanted to send Smartass the picture to prove how they were just too cute for words.   

Mr. Smartass  
 **Kids and animals are always cute.  Especially together.  Most definitely together.  
** **You should make sure you take pictures to send to their parents. Parents love pictures.**

Derek grimaced as he realized that he had been so excited to send the picture to Smartass earlier, he never even thought about sending one to Laura and Sean.  He quickly sent Laura a message saying that the kids were doing fine and that he hoped they were having a nice weekend. 

He glanced up at the TV and watched as Jim figured out how the map and the planet were connected.  He glanced over at Jenny, who was wrapped up in her blanket and intently watching the film. She didn’t look to be in any of danger of falling asleep soon.  As Jim placed the map into the ground, Derek’s phone buzzed.  He glanced down at it quickly, assuming it was a text from Mr. Smartass.  He pouted when he saw who it was from. 

Laura  
 **Derek, please do not interrupt us unless there is an emergency. I promise to do the same for you one day.**

Derek did not want to know what his text just interrupted.  Instead, he replied to Smartass.

Derek  
 **Bad Idea.  My sister pretty much told me off for interrupting them.  I did NOT need to think about that.  Bad thoughts. I blame you.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **How do you think you got nieces and nephews?  Do I really need to explain the birds and the bees to you? Don’t think I won’t.**

Derek  
 **They’re not my sister’s kids.  She’s marrying their father and into the family.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **That must be tough.  Do the kids like her?**

Derek  
 **Surprisingly. The kids don’t really remember their mom. They’ve taken to her really well.  They’re almost to the point of calling her mom.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **That’s good.  Good for them to regain a parental figure.  I don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse that they don’t remember their mom.  
** **I mean, I’m glad that I do. I wouldn’t trade my memories of my mom for the world.  You know? But it would be easier and hurt less if I didn’t remember.**

Derek  
 **It’s because they mean something to you.  If they didn’t, you wouldn’t care.  It just shows that you have a lot of heart.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **Thanks, I think?  I do tend to get attached to the people I like.**

Derek wondered if he was one of the people that Mr. Smartass liked and had gotten attached to.  He hoped so.  He hoped that’s what it meant when Smartass had texted him regularly every day for the past year.

Mr. Smartass  
 **My best friend also says that he’s too scared to get on my bad side because of what I might do in retaliation.  I may have made my chemistry teacher’s life hell in high school because he was a bully. My dad’s a cop too so I can totally get away with murder.**

Derek  
 **Please tell me I’m not part of that second category**  

Mr. Smartass  
 **Don’t worry.  You don’t have to worry about being killed in your sleep.  Although, I could probably find out who you are if I wanted to.**

That made Derek very nervous. And excited.  He wanted Smartass to get to know him, but only if he could get to know Smartass in return.  He was also scared of what happened once they took the anonymity away from their relationship.

Derek  
 **Will you?**

Mr. Smartass  
 **Nah, man.  That wouldn’t be cool. Besides, it’s a lot more trouble than it’s worth.  
** **Not that you’re not worth it!  I just wouldn’t do that to you.  You know, betray your trust and stuff.**

Derek couldn’t help but smile.

Derek  
 **Thanks.  
** **I wouldn’t either, if I knew how.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **Aw, you do care.**

Derek  
 **Shut up.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **Just when I thought about revoking the name Mr. Grumpy.  Gotta learn it’s okay to care, dude.**

Derek  
 **I do care.  I care that you’re frequently calling me dude again.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **And we were so close to having a moment.  Way to ruin it.**

Derek  
 **I’m not the one that ruined it.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **I don’t like what you’re implying.**

Derek  
 **I’m implying that someone decided to mock me and ruin the moment.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **So, you do admit we had a moment!**

Derek groaned as he tried not to laugh. He would never admit to anyone, ever how much Smartass made him laugh.  He looked up at the TV screen, surprised to see it on the blue out screen of the DVD menu. The film must have ended without him even noticing it.  Jenny was no longer wide awake, but cuddled up in the corner of the sofa like a cat. Derek shook his head, wondering where the time had gone 

Derek  
 **Good night Smartass.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **Night, Mr. Grumpy.**

* * *

 

It shouldn’t be a surprise that Jenny convinced Derek to take them to the market on Sunday morning. Even though Derek had been in Beacon Hills for a couple of months already, he’d never made it down to the market. Derek had claimed Sunday as his laze-about day and couldn’t be bothered.  But, Jenny and Max had both begged and pleaded.  Derek knew the two of them wouldn’t let him sleep in anyways.  

At least, Derek thought as they got out of the car, it was summer and warm out.  He didn’t have to worry about bundling the kids up and making sure they wouldn’t catch a cold.

The market wasn’t really what Derek was expecting.  There wasn’t extensive farmland surrounding Beacon Hills, so he didn’t think it was going to be tons of locally grown food, but he certainly didn’t think it would be _this._

Derek glanced around him, wide-eyed and held each of the kids hand tightly in his own.  It would be way too easy for him to lose them here. There was just so much going on, and Derek felt like he was walking through a carnival. 

There were two main components to the farmer’s market as far as Derek could see: the booths and the performers, and there were just as many performers as there were booths. Each corner of the parking lot the farmer’s market took place in was designated to musical groups.  The rest of the performers were randomly walking around and interacting with the crowed. There were amateur magicians, people dressed up as famous characters interacting with people, hula hoopers, and dancers.

Then, there were the booths. Almost every restaurant in town had some sort of booth, either to sell packaged food or made fresh for brunch. And of course, there were the traditional farmer's market booths with the vegetables, fruits, breads, and spreads.  Derek even recognized one of them, Strasser’s Dried Spices, who was the family that lived and ran the land his mom still owned. Local artists had their own displays as well, scattered throughout the parking lot.

The kid’s favorite part, and what Derek thought was the smartest part, of the market was the games. Derek was dragged to games where they had to toss balls into buckets and hit the bull’s eye.  Simple kid’s games.  Derek had to hand over a dollar per turn for a game, and in return the Jenny and Max won apples, buttons, and temporary tattoos. Derek thought it was smart, because they could be sold on there own at booths, but they probably wouldn’t earn as much money as they did with the kids the kids begging their parents for money to play the game. 

Perhaps the most baffling part to Derek was the amount of energy that filled up the small place on a Sunday morning. Not only did it seem like the entire town was there, but there was none of that lazy Sunday morning feeling. Everyone seemed happy to be there, gossiping with their neighbors as the kids ran around playing. Derek half-expected someplace to be giving out free coffee, aka caffeine, by how awake everyone was at seven a.m. on the weekend.

The atmosphere reminded Derek that he wasn’t in New York City and he released his death grip on Jenny and Max, allowing them the freedom to run around.  Derek still kept his eyes firmly on him, but he wasn’t too worried about a child abduction in Beacon Hills.  The kids had a blast, pulling Derek to what their favorite booths and gobbling up the free samples set out.  They spent an hour on just the games alone, Derek not minding the fifty-cent charge per game.  

At nine o’clock, Jenny complained that she was hungry as she drank some freshly squeezed orange juice she had just won from a game of pin of the tail on the donkey.

“Uncle Derek?” Max asked, looking up at him with his big blue eyes.  Derek sighed and squatted down to Max’s level.  He was slowly building an immunity to Jenny’s puppy dog eyes, which was only to be expected when she’d used them about fifty times that weekend alone. However, there was no way Derek was ever going to be able to say no to Max.

Derek straightened Max’s jacket. “Yeah, pup?”

Max smiled shyly at his new nickname. Derek couldn’t resist calling him pup after Bailey had climbed onto Max’s bed last night after Derek had woken them from their nap on the couch.

“Can we go to A Fox’s Tale for food?"   he asked hopefully. "It might even be story time!”

“Yes!  Oh, please Uncle Derek, can we?  Pleeease?” Jenny drew out as she jumped up and down in excitement.

“I don’t see why not,” Derek replied as he ruffled Max’s hair.  He never did take Jenny when he first moved here.  His weekend had been all too busy.  Even now, he still hadn’t done too much extra research on the competition. “You two know how to get there?”

They both nodded vigorously.

“You follow the paw prints!” Jenny exclaimed.

Derek raised an eyebrow. “The paw prints.”

“The paw prints!” Jenny repeated and Max just pointed.  And then Derek the trail of red painted paw prints on the ground that led out of the parking lot and to Main Street.  He even saw the large wooden sign by the edge of the parking lot.   

_A Fox’s Tale_

_is located just around the corner._

_Welcome for brunch and storytelling for kids!_

“Why don’t you guys lead the way?” Derek suggested as they started following the trail.  Jenny bounced as she tried to step on each and every paw print, and Max giggled as he tries to copy her.

The first thing Derek noticed when they entered the shop was how eerily quiet it was compared to all the commotion from the market.

“Story time is about to start,” Jenny said in a hushed tone that Derek didn’t think she was capable of.

Sure enough, there was a bunch of children all with his or her own colorful pillows on the floor in the shop’s corner. A young man sat in a rocking chair, picking at his jeans as he waited for the children to settle.

Derek was taking in the man’s pleasantly upturned nose and scattering of moles over his pale skin when Jenny and Max both grabbed his hands and pulled him over to the rest of the children. They each grabbed a cushion and tried to pull Derek onto the floor.  Derek easily gave in, sitting his butt on the ground and allowing himself to be manhandled onto the two cushions.  He could feel the man watching them and waiting for them to settle in.

As Jenny and Max both climbed into his lap, they started whispering and nudging each other, which then gained the rest of the children’s attention.  Derek gave a sheepish smile and mouthed sorry to the man in the rocking chair.   He smiled, and Derek felt himself unintentionally blush.  He dropped his eyes immediately and silently rearranged Jenny and Max until they were comfortable.  Derek, on the other hand, was far from comfortable.  Jenny’s hair was tickling his nose and Max’s elbow was shoved against his bladder. He hoped it was a short story.

The young man cautiously held a thumbs up in their direction, as if asking permission to get started. Derek smiled and nodded over the kids' heads.  Then, the man began to talk.

“Morning, you guys. Today we are going to read _The Knight and the Dragon Story and Pictures_ by Tomie DePaolo.  Who has read this book before?”

Half of the kids excitedly raise their hands in the air, as Derek tried to hide his surprise by the guy in front of him to have such a deep voice.  It was just as deep as his own and much more pleasurable to the ears.

The man smiled down at the children. “So, you guys all know who the story goes, which means you have a responsibility to keep quiet and not ruin the book for the others, because it’s a good book.  Right?”

“Right!” a bunch of kids responded.

The man nodded and held the book up so the pictures were facing the children.

“Once upon a time,” he began “there was a knight in a castle who never fought a dragon.  And in a cave not too far away was a dragon who had never fought a knight."

Derek listened, enchanted. The story was cute and had some good laughs, but the true entertainment came from the reader himself. He got really into it. Not only did he do a different voice for each of the characters, but he also added sounds and noises as he read along, which made the story even funnier.  Derek could tell that he enjoyed telling the story.  His big brown eyes were crinkling at the corners as he regarded the children as he spoke.  His face never stopped smiling either.  Even during the serious parts, he looked innately pleased to be there.

At the end of the story, the man stood up to take a bow, and a bunch of kids rushed at him tackling him into a hug. The young man went falling back into his chair and started chatting happily with the children. Derek reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the happy scene to the kids on his lap.

“Did you two like _The Knight and the Dragon_?” he asked them.

Jenny and Max both nodded enthusiastically. Derek wasn’t surprised. Jenny kept rocking back and knocking her head on his chin every time she laughed, and Max would break into a silent fit of giggles which caused him to shake uncontrollably on Derek’s knee.Max turned all the way around, kicking Derek in the stomach as he did so, and tugged on Derek’s shirt.

“Uncle Derek?” he asked hesitantly.                                     

“What is it, pup?”

“Will you get us _The Knight and the Dragon?_ “ Max asked, looking up hopefully.  As an afterthought, Max added, “Please?”       

Derek chuckled.  Of all the things they could ask for, books were one of the things that he had no problem of spoiling them with. Nor was it a difficulty.

“Of course. Why don’t you and Jenny go and pick a few different books out?  I’m sure there are others that you’ll like.” Laura and Sean couldn’t even get mad at him for spoiling them, because it would be a great way to keep the kids occupied while they were trying to work or the plan the wedding.

“Really?” Jenny squealed, standing up quickly.

Derek nodded in confirmation.

“Just don’t get too crazy,” he told them, but they were already rushing off into the shop’s shelves. Derek picked himself up from the ground and returned the bright pillows he had been sitting on. He took a moment to take in the rest of the shop.  The competition, he reminded himself.

Derek’s first impression based off A Fox’s Tale's website all those months ago wasn’t that far off.  The place held charm and appeal with its crazy art decorations and people smashed into book nooks in certain corners, even if Derek didn’t remember seeing the book nooks on their website.  The atmosphere was a little loud and busy, but happy.  The employees were few at best, Derek realized as he scanned the crowd.   He could only spot a few people wearing nametags in the shape of orange tails.  Derek would admit that the workers did seem to be pleasant and accommodating and equaled enthusiasm of the storyteller from earlier. None of the customers seemed angry or upset, except for the odd child here or there that wasn’t allowed to get a book or was told that they were going home.

As Derek breathed in deeply, he smelled a delicious aroma of freshly baked goods.  Derek followed his nose to a table near the front of the store by the window display.  CeeCee’s Cakes were selling food items.  It wasn’t just cakes either; apparently, they sold a whole range of bakery items.

Derek’s stomach rumbled angrily, and he remembered that they had originally decided to come to the shop for brunch. Somehow, through the talents of the storyteller, Derek had temporarily forgotten about his hunger, Derek grabbed a cinnamon apple muffin, a bear claw, and a piece of Nutella streusel from the table and got in the checkout line.

As he waited in line, Derek kept his eyes peeled for Jenny and Max. Thankfully, they were both only a few display tables away from the counter, which allowed Derek to tell them that they were checking out.  Of course, that only led to more squeals as they rushed over to hand Derek their books and then rushed off again to find more.   Derek tried not to roll his eyes as he balanced the books in one hand and the food in the other.

Soon, he was next in line. He was spending his time looking out for Jenny and Max and watching the cashier, who just so happened to be the storyteller from earlier.  The cashier was listening to paying costumer’s rant.

“If you need anything just let us know. We won’t be buying our books anywhere else.  You can count on that!” A woman who looked to be just older than Derek was saying. “I mean, who would want to buy books where the employees don’t know my kids' names or their favorite books and genres?  What kind of help is that?"

Derek had a sneaking suspicion that she was talking about Hale’s Wolftastic Books, which wasn’t good news for him, but he stayed quiet and continued to listen calmly. 

“Besides we have to keep this place alive, even if just for your mom’s sake.  You know she helped me graduate college?  I had come back home and ready to give up.  I had filled out a job application for here, and your mom just demanded to know why I wasn’t at school.  I ended up working here for a summer and taking summer classes.  I did lots of studying at this counter.  If it wasn’t for your mom, I would’ve dropped out of school and never had met Tom and had Jake and Brandon.”  She gestured to her two boys who were playing over by a dinosaur display.

The cashier’s smile wasn’t as bright as it was earlier while he was narrating, but Derek didn’t think it looked any less sincere, just a little sad.

“I didn’t know that, Mrs. Frederickson.” The young man placed her books into a bag and handed them over to her. “But, thank you for telling me and for your support.  It’s one of the many reasons I believe we can keep this place open.  It’s an embodiment of my mom, and she always knew the right way to help someone and make them feel better.”

It took Derek longer than it should’ve to realize that this young man was in fact the owner.  The mother, Derek thought, must have been the woman who bought A Fox’s Tale after his own mother left town.  It was a bit of a shock to his system to figure out that this young man was his competition, and yet the warmth that he had somehow felt towards this man didn’t disappear as it should’ve with that information. Some of the opening lines to the cashier that Derek had been running through his head while he waited in line were all too ridiculous now.  But still, Derek couldn’t not say anything.   Soon, it was his turn and he stepped up to the counter with his purchases.

“Why might you not stay open?” was what came out of Derek’s mouth without his permission.  It wasn’t his first choice in trying to lure the enchanting young man into conversation.  Derek didn’t want to tell him who he was, but he hadn’t intended on trying to play the guy.

The cashier regarded Derek with a surprised look on his face, but before he could respond Jenny and Max rushed to the counter adding more books to their growing pile.

“And these, Uncle Derek!” Jenny exclaimed.

“Please!”  Max added at the loudest volume Derek had ever heard him speak. How could he say no to that?

Derek nodded in response and lifted Max up in his arms.  The cashier stared at them with a smile on his face, and Derek couldn’t help the warm, pleased feeling settling in his gut.  He smiled back at him, which caused the cashier to jerk in surprise and a red flush settled on his cheeks.

“Sorry about that.” The cashier kept his gaze to the counter and he started checking out the books.  “About your question, there’s a new bookstore coming to town, Hale’s Wolftastic Books. It’s a big chain, so people are a little worried about the competition.”

“We know about Hale’s Wolftastic Books!” Jenny said, excitedly.

“Yeah!”  Max added nodding.

The cashier leaned over the counter to talk to the kids better.  “Do you like it better than here?”  he asked.

 Max kept turning his head around as he looked over the bookstore in question and a frown settled on his face.  He apparently didn’t like the question, so he then hid his face in Derek’s shirt. Derek didn’t feel betrayed. After all, the kids have never actually been in his family’s bookstore, as far as he knew.

Jenny was also frowning. She looked at Derek and then back to the cashier.  “We’ve never actually been there,” Jenny said, proving Derek to be correct.  “But Laura and Derek bring us books from there all the time.  They’ve also showed me pictures!”

The young man looked up at Derek. “Big fans of Hale’s Wolftastic Books, uh?  I bet you’re not from around here, Uncle Derek.”

“No, I’m not.  My sister recently moved here to marry their father.” Which was close enough to the truth, Derek thought.  “My family is from New York City.  I’m afraid, I don’t understand what’s wrong with Hale’s Wolftastic Books.”

“You mean besides from being a huge corporation, which we’re not a fan of around here?  It just doesn’t mean anything, you know?  It’s so impersonal.  Plus, they stock so many books that the employees can’t have read all of them and help the customer the way he or she truly deserves,” the cashier started with passion filling in his voice.

“Especially for those shopping for others or those that don’t know what they want.  At the end of the day, they’re driven by what corporation wants and the sales goals.  They’re not going to care if some kids thinking of dropping out of college,” he said, waving of towards the door where Mrs. Frederickson had left.

“Or if a single parent doesn’t have daycare and works a lot of hours.”  This time, he gestured behind him where Derek could see pictures of people in the store.  There seems to be two reoccurring characters.  The cashier, starting at a young age, and a young woman with dark brown hair and similar smile.  His mother, Derek assumed.

“It’s mostly that the place isn’t here. It’s not A Fox’s Tale. And my mom made a point to make it part of the community and make it matter to people, and I really think it has.   So, yeah, I guess this place is just really important to me.”  He finished ringing up the books, and Derek couldn't help but notice his long fingers tapping on the counter as he talked.  Now, he forced out a weak laugh and smiled sheepishly. “Which isn’t what you asked, really.” He leaned back and bounced a bit on his feet.  “Uh, right. Total is $89.42.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a bit pricey, isn’t it?”  he asked as he got out cash, because he sure as hell wasn't going to be paying with a card that said Hale on it.

“No.” The cashier scowled. “You bought seven books and three pastries. The prices also take into account our services.  I hope you enjoyed Story Time.”

Derek did indeed enjoy Story Time.

“Story Time with Stiles,” Max said, giggling. That’s right, Derek remembered Laura calling it by that name.

The young man’s moodiness disappeared as he looked at Max.  “Do you think my name's funny?  You should hear my actual name, and then you’d really be laughing.”

Derek tried to hold back a snort. “You mean you actually go by the name of Stiles?”

“Yup!  Stiles Stilinski.  Trust me, it’s best for everyone involved,” Stiles said as he handed Derek his change.

“Derek,” he replied, introducing himself.

“Yes, I know.  Uncle Derek.  I think Derek makes for a great last name,” Stiles said, smiling as he hands over two bags of books and their pastries in a brown paper bag. 

“Oh, no!  His first name is Derek!”  Jenny explained as she reaches on her tiptoes to explain to Stiles. “His last name is-“

“Jenny, we better get going. Your parents should be back soon.” Derek hastily interrupted her as he balances the bags and Max.

“Really?  Then let’s go!  I want Mom to French braid my hair.  She’s better at it than Daddy,“  Jenny said, pulling Derek by his hand that was full of bags.  He dutifully followed her, but he couldn't help but look back at the young cashier, who was laughing with his whole body.  Stiles, he thought before he left.

* * *

 

Once again, Stiles stumbled his way through his apartment and threw himself onto his bed.  Sundays were always the most intense days of the week. He got to A Fox’s Tale early to start setting up the table with the local bakery of the week and to pick a book for Story Time.  The kids were always everywhere, and parents would fall into haggling mode from the farmer’s market and try to get him to lower his prices.

 Story Time was probably his favorite part of the day.  He loved watching the kids' reactions as he read.  It was one of those moments when tabula rasa made complete sense to him. The way the kids developed and responded to things based on how they were taught at a young age. So, he tried to pick books that went against popular stereotypes.  None of them were deep enough to warrant a discussion afterwards, but they gave the kids other influences and options to choose from.  Like today’s tale, _The Knight and the Dragon,_ was mostly cute and a lot of fun, but it still showed that stereotypes aren’t always true.  Dragons aren’t always monsters and not all boys want to be a sword-fighting knight. Stiles didn’t think that his theme was noticeable to anyone, but he liked to think it subconsciously helped the kids keep a more open mind 

As Stiles thought about Story Time, his mind drifted to the tall man with the dark scruff that had let his niece and nephew climb all over him.  Derek, who wasn’t from Beacon Hills, but spoiled the kids with books. Stiles rolled over and groaned into his pillows.  Thinking about the handsome stranger who was good with kids and from New York was making his heart hurt a little.  Plus, he had basically defended Hale’s Wolftastic Books, so he wasn’t someone Stiles should want to be in contact with anyways.  He wondered if Mr. Grumpy was in favor of Hale’s Wolftastic Books. There was only one way to find out.

Stiles  
 **Do you know Hale’s Wolftastic Books?**

Stiles typed out onto his phone. A few minutes later his phone buzzed with a response.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Yes**

“Helpful,” Stiles muttered.

Stiles  
 **Do you think they’re a good bookstore?**

Stiles bit his lip as he waited for a response.  What if he did like the stupid box business?  Stiles waited a whole five minutes before a response came through, his nerves quickly getting out of control.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **It’s better than Barnes and Noble.  They also do a lot of events with the community.  I would consider it a good bookstore.**

That really wasn’t the answer Stiles wanted to hear.  He ran his finger over the screen tracing the words.  Stiles couldn’t blame him from thinking it was better than Barnes and Noble, although Stiles really didn’t have a preference over the two.  But the second part, it was how Stiles might describe his own store.  No, Stiles thought. He didn’t blame Mr. Grumpy for liking Hale’s Wolftastic Books, but the new info on the store wasn’t good news for him either.  His phone buzzed again. 

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Why?**

Stiles  
 **There’s been talk of getting one in town. I was just curious.**

Right now, Mr. Grumpy was his one escape from the turmoil the new bookstore was causing the town.  Although Stiles had mentioned some competition, it wasn’t specific nor was it detailed enough to cause Mr. Grumpy to continue pestering him about it. It was a topic that they had moved on from, and Stiles was thankful for that.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **They also have a wide selection.  It’s pretty easy to find whatever book you want there.  I have a Jane Austen set from them, and it’s pretty nice.**

Stiles couldn’t help but smile, even thought it was more positive things about Hale’s. Surprisingly, books were not a topic that they had really touched on before, and it amused Stiles that Mr. Grumpy was an Austen fan.  It was both a little comical and enduring at the same time.  Stiles couldn’t help but think of Mr. Darcy and Mr. Grumpy’s surly attitude that got him his nickname.  Stiles bet that Mr. Grumpy would look good in some 1800s clothing.  He imagined a muscular body in tight trousers and nice form-fitting vest.  For some reason, his mind than supplied him with Derek’s face and body.  And, damn it, why wass he attracted to people who did not live in the area?  He forced his head out of that line of thought and returned to his conversation with Mr. Grumpy. 

Stiles  
 **Jane Austen, uh?  Do you want to go to Austenland too?**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I have no desire to play the role of Lizzie Bennett and marry Mr. Darcy.**

Stiles  
 **That’s because you ARE Mr. Darcy, dude!  Don’t you want an excuse to stand there and be surly to everyone while looking hot?**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I don’t need an excuse.  I do that anyways.**

Stiles burst out into laughter. Although he had been thinking it himself just a few minutes ago, Mr. Grumpy saying it was even funnier. And, Mr. Grumpy hadn’t said anything to negate that he was hot.

Stiles  
 **I know you do ;)**

Every so often Stiles would push the flirting line past where Mr. Grumpy was comfortable with, and it would result in a conversation change.  Stiles wasn’t sure if that was because Mr. Grumpy didn’t think of Stiles that way or if he didn’t know how to flirt over text.  Stiles was pretty sure Mr. Grumpy had to know he was a little bit interested, but he continued to share personal information and stay in contact with Stiles. So, he just didn’t know what to think.

Sure enough, the new text that came through ignored Stiles’ flirtation altogether, and Stiles sighed sadly.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I take it from the Austenland comment you don’t care for her books?**

Stiles  
 **No. Or well, I can’t really say. I’ve never read one.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Not even Pride and Prejudice?**

Stiles  
 **Nope**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I think you need a new education.**

Stiles  
 **Excuse you, my education was perfectly fine.  We read Frankenstein instead.  Much, much better.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Don’t knock it until you try it.  Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorite books.  I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve read it.  I think you would really like Lizzie.**

Stiles  
 **You say that like you know her personally.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I do.**

Stiles rolled his eyes, but he can’t help but feel fondly for the man treating fictional characters as if they’re real. Although Stiles doesn’t dwell much further than the children’s section anymore, he knows and understands the importance of stories and characters. 

Stiles  
 **Don’t be such a dork.  Maybe I will try to read it.  If you can convince me to ;)**

Two winky-faces in one conversation, Stiles thought, he must be getting brave. 

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Strong female character, an opportunity to complain about everything, and some hot guys.  Doesn’t sound too bad, does it?**

Stiles  
 **You know me too well.  Why’s it your favorite? Why this particular Austen book?**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Lizzie  
** **She’s the best main character.  The rest of Austen’s leads are goody goodies or they pretend to be. Emma’s also intense, but she’s also a brat. Lizzie’s strong willed and good hearted and doesn’t go too far off the deep end.  She’s also humble and capable of admitting when she’s wrong. You can also see the progress of her relationship with Darcy and it makes a lot of sense. There’s a reason it’s her most renowned book and that people play with it all the time.**

Stiles loved the fact that Mr. Grumpy often communicated in short terms and then would burst out with a paragraph out of nowhere. It always showed how passionate he was about certain subjects.  He spent most of his words on his family and dog.  Lately, he’d been focusing on his sister’s kids. 

And apparently he really loved this book, which sent a small pang through Stiles’ chest.  The reason he had never read it was because it was one of his mother’s favorite books. He remembered her talking about it, and reading it over and over.  He had her old copy on his shelf, but he could never bring himself to read it. It just felt too painful. Like she was so close and too far at the same time.  It aggrieved him that he could never read it with her.  But maybe he could get through it with Mr. Grumpy’s help.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **What’s your favorite book?**

Stiles  
 **Promise you won’t laugh.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **No. You laughed at me.**

Stiles  
 **I’m more of a graphic novel type of guy.  And a huge fan of Batman.  I think Red Hood is one of the best things ever.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Seriously? You don’t even read real books?**

Stiles  
 **Don’t even!  They have more thought and artistry than half the books published out there.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I’ll try Red Hood if you try Pride and Prejudice.**

Stiles  
 **Only if I can text you all hours of the night.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **You do that anyways.**

Stiles hesitated before he sent out the following text. 

Stiles  
 **It was my mom’s favorite book.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **You can text me whenever you need to.  Promise.**

Stiles let out a shaky breath. He was really going to do it. He was finally going to read _Pride and Prejudice_. 

* * *

“Do you think you’d be ready to go in fifteen?”  Lydia asked Stiles over the phone.

“Ready for what?  Lydia, I was just about to order a pizza.”

“There’s this party. I need you to come as my date -”

Stiles snorted.  Like Lydia would ever deem him to be her date.

“Fine.  As my guest.  Look you don’t have to come, but you’re just going to mope around and wonder about your life choices and think of the bookstore.  So, you should come with me to this party.”

“You really think dragging me to a party where there will be copious amount of drinking is the best way to counter that?”

“I never said it was a college party, Stiles. It’s more of a dinner party. Think of it this way. It’s good, free food, and it's not in Beacon Hills so no one will be pestering you about the store.”

Stiles sighed and started to relent. “Three things. One, where is this dinner? What do I have to bring? And how dressed up to I have to be?”

“It’s over by Pacific Hills University.   A colleague of mine is going to be there, and I want to pick her brains about a couple of things, since I don’t see her too much during work hours.  You don’t have to bring anything.  I have taken care of that.  But, Stiles, please dress nicely.”  Lydia hung up the phone.

Stiles frowned at the phone. He never liked when Lydia used the word "nice." He went over to the one corner of his closet that wasn’t a mess.  There hung all the clothes that he rarely wore,  AKA, his nice and Lydia-approved clothes. Stiles pulled out the dark grey suit pants and the red sweater.  They were both tighter than his usual clothes, but they were still the least form-fitting out of all the clothes in that section, which meant they were perfect for eating dinner.  

* * *

 

Lydia picked him up fifteen minutes exactly from when she called.  Go figure. The gathering, as Lydia described it in the car, was at a professor’s house near the University. A colleague who had graduated from the PHU had invited Lydia.

Considering that Lydia had said she had wanted to pick someone’s brains and that it was at a professor’s house, Stiles should’ve realized that it was going to be an academic event. Stiles looked around glumly as the rest of the guests who all seemed to be talking about their profession in academic terms.  He was still standing next to Lydia as she talked to an old classmate and current professor at PHU about some theory Stiles had never heard of.  Stiles muttered that he was going to get something to drink, and Lydia waved him away absentmindedly.

Although it wasn’t some drunk college party like Stiles had first thought of when Lydia had said party, there was, thankfully, alcohol available.  Stiles found a bar set up over by the fireplace in the living room. He was about to resign himself to a glass of red wine, when he spied the classy silver cooler under the bar. So, he snagged himself a beer instead, which was much more his style.

Stiles found a space against the back wall and let himself people watch for awhile.  It was always an activity that he enjoyed.  His mom and he used to play Sherlock Holmes when he was little.  They would try to deduce as much as they could about a person through observation. Like the well-dressed man who was holding the attention from a good portion of the room was still probably living in his wealthy parent’s pockets.  He was smooth enough to get by and get people to like him, but too lazy to do anything with his life, Stiles thought as he noticed the crisp, never used book he was holding. 

Sometimes, if his mom determined if it were polite enough, she would even let Stiles ask the object of the game how much they had gotten right.  Now, it was mostly the same thing, except that he never asked anyone how much he figured out correctly nor was he able to play it with her.  Sometimes, Stiles even let his imagination take hold and create stories about the strangers in front of him instead of relying purely on observation and fact.  Like how he mused that Mr. Rich N Lazy was secretly stressing the fuck out, because he didn’t feel like he fit in anywhere.  He wasn’t smart enough to truly keep up in academic conversation with these people nor did he want to go hang around with people who shopped regularly at the mall.

Stiles found himself listening into some of the conversations.  He was fascinated by the conversation that seemed to be composed of English and Psychology professors and grad students.  He sighed wistfully wishing he knew enough to join in their conversation. If he went back to school – Stiles shook that thought off as he noticed “Uncle Derek” walk into the room, reluctantly trailing behind a tall brunette.   Stiles thought he recognized her, but couldn’t be sure. He took a wild guess and assumed that its Derek’s sister. The kids' mom. 

Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle at Derek’s petulant expression.  He reminded Stiles of a five-year-old who hadn’t gotten his way.  The smiles and laughter that had been present on Sunday, when he was with his niece and nephew, had disappeared.  Instead, he was glaring at the young woman’s back and scowling.  Before Stiles could tell himself that it was a bad idea, he left his spot against the wall, grabbed another beer and walked over to Derek.

Stiles held the beer out as an offering. “Hey, Derek.”

Derek’s brow furrowed a little, but he had stopped glaring and wasn’t scowling as much.  Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Stiles’ part.

“Thanks,” he said quietly as he took the beer.

“I’m Stiles,” Stiles said, thinking that Derek probably didn’t remember him.

The scowl was completely gone now, and no, Stiles was not just imagining that.  Stiles liked to believe that he wasn’t imagining the slight uptick in Derek’s lips either.

 “I remember.”

“Oh!  Good!  I didn’t really think you would.  I mean why would you? Really?  I’m just some random clerk you saw for a few seconds,” Stiles rambled.

“You remembered my name,” Derek pointed out, which made Stiles flush a little.  “Plus, you also read at Story Time and were pretty passionate about the store.  And your mom.”

Stiles tried to prevent himself from getting any redder when it was revealed that Derek remembered not only his name, but the specifics of Sunday as well. “Yeah, well you were pretty hard to forget yourself.  You did delay Story Time after all,” Stiles said teasingly.

Before Derek had a change to respond, the young woman he came in with came over with a man that looked to be about Stiles’ father’s age.  He had dark auburn hair and a pair of wireframes.  Everything about him screamed professor.

“Derek,” she said.  “This is Professor Charles Inning.  Charles, this is Derek Hale, my brother.”

The professor offered his hand for Derek to shake it, but Derek had a panicked expression on his face and was looking at Stiles. 

Hale.  Hale as in Hale’s Wolftastic Books.  Stiles clenched his jaw together angrily.  Before he could say anything, another very loud voice addressed the entire room. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, sorry for the wait.  But dinner is now served!  There will be a buffet in the dining room.  Please help yourselves!”

When Stiles snapped his attention back to Derek, he was gone.  Derek was already moving across the room and toward the food.  Stiles ground his teeth together.  There was no way that he was getting away that easily. He quickly followed Derek, swerving around the bodies that were slowly heading towards the dining room, and squeezed right behind Derek in line for the buffet.

“Derek Hale?”  Stiles demanded as he grabbed the nearest dinner plate and held it tightly.

Derek turned to him, nodded, and then dismissed Stiles by turning forward and continuing down the buffet line.   Stiles barely managed not to growl at him.

“So, what?  You just wanted to spy on the competition? See what the big news about the bookstore is doing to me?  How to undermine any efforts I might have to stay open?”  Stiles practically threw a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto his plate, which resulted in some splattering on the front of Stiles’ shirt and the back of Derek’s. Stiles mentally cheered that he got food on Derek’s shirt, and Derek would probably never notice.

“I wasn’t spying,” Derek told him as he looked over which piece of steak to pick.

“Oh really?  Why else would you be in my bookstore?  You even asked why we would go out of business!” Stiles got even angrier as he recalled that conversation.

“It’s called being polite,” Derek told him as he picked up the largest, most rare steak off the platter.

“Please,” Stiles scoffed. “I bet those kids aren’t really your niece and nephew.  I bet you bribed them off someone.”

Derek turned to him with one of his eyebrow raised.  “Yes, Stiles.  I hired children to go into a very busy bookstore on Sunday morning that I could have easily had gone into by myself without being noticed.  Why would I even need to go spy on your bookstore anyways?”   Derek asked as he moved down to the homemade grilled potato bites.

“Why?”  Stiles hissed.  “Because, obviously, we’re your competition!”  Stiles watched as Derek started loading the rest of the potato bites on his plate.  “What are you doing? You can’t just take the rest of them!”

Derek paused from where he was about to put the serving spoon back down on the plate, which had about seven potato bites left on it, but then he scooped up all seven bites onto his plate.

“Dude, seriously?”  Stiles started plunking some of the potato bites off of Derek’s plate and putting them on his.  He was seriously not going to deprive Stiles of potatoes.  

Derek ignored his outburst and his actions and moved down to the dinner rolls.  Stiles grabbed the knife in front of him and started to cut slices of ham. Ham was much better than steak.

Derek informed Stiles, “You’re not much of a competition though, are you?  Just a small, little children’s bookstore.  Not only do we cater to more than just children, I bet you barely make enough to stay afloat every year.  No, there’s nothing that we have to worry about.  Least of all one that’s doing a poor imitation of someone already gone.“

Stiles gripped the knife tightly in his hand has he turned to Derek.  He was so angry; he could barely get any words out.  “Excuse me?”

Just then, Lydia appeared at his elbow. “Looks like you’ve made some friends after all,” she said breezily. She then addressed Derek. “I’m Lydia Martin.”

“Derek Hale.”

Lydia’s smile disappeared completely. “Hale?” She looked down at Stiles’ hands, where Stiles was pointing a knife at Derek.  She slowly reached over and took the knife out of his hand. It was only then that Stiles noticed that he was shaking.

Derek’s sister then appeared behind Derek. “Derek!  Where did you get to?  The whole reason I dragged you here was to talk to Charles about the process of going green for the store and you completely disappeared.” She then turned to Lydia and Stiles. “Sorry, I’m –“

“Laura Hale,” Lydia finished for her.

Laura grinned in response. “Yes!  It’s good to see Derek’s made some friends.”

Lydia’s lips curved into a smile, but Stiles knew it wasn’t real.  “Not exactly, Mr. and Ms. Hale.  Now, if you’ll excuse us.” 

And then, Lydia led Stiles away from the dining room and towards the front door.  “This wasn’t exactly what I planned for this night to be for you. I’m sure you want to get out of here. Eat your dinner, and I’m going to finish up a few things, and then we’ll go."

Stiles nodded, but try as he might he couldn’t get more than a few forkfuls down of food. 

* * *

 

Stiles plopped down on his couch and dragged the coffee table closer to him.  He carefully placed his piping hot container of curly fries and extra-large milkshake on the coffee table.  He distantly heard his mom’s voice in his head, reminding him to use a coaster, but he usually used napkins and scraps of paper, all of which are too far away for his life at the moment.

Lydia had felt bad enough at the end of the party that she had stopped at Luke’s Diner and got him treats, which he appreciated. Stiles couldn’t believe that he had been attracted to a freaking Hale. Not only attracted, but had started entertaining certain thoughts.  Romantic thoughts.  Derek just had to be fucking adorable with his stupid niece and nephew.

Stiles groaned and shoved some curly fries into his mouth and turned on the TV.  He found some mindless reality TV show that he left on for some sort distraction. Except, it really wasn’t working as his mind kept wandering back to Derek Hale. 

It was one thing that he had started crushing on Derek, but what was really getting to him was the remark about his mom. That was crossing a line. And of course, it just had to be something that Stiles struggled with all the time. He wasn’t his mom and he knew that, but he wanted to continue her legacy the best he could. There are days where he feels like he has failed her, like when he doesn’t know a single person’s name in the shop that day.

As he sucked down on his milkshake, his mind spiraled more and more out of control and into self-doubt. How the store would never be able to compete with Hale’s Wolftastic Books, and would soon be gone. She’d be gone forever and -

Stiles’ phone buzzed from his pocket, and it made him self-aware.  His hands were shaking badly enough that the milkshake he was holding kept bouncing off the lid of the cup.  He tried to turn all his attention to his phone, gripping it like a lifeline.  It took him a few minutes to collect himself and forced himself to pull up the newly received text.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I feel like an awful person.  I said things tonight that I should’ve never even crossed my mind, let alone say them out loud.**

Stiles, desperate for the distraction of someone else’s problem and some normalcy, responded immediately, his fingers still shaking as he typed.

Stiles  
 **You rude?  
** **Okay, maybe that was rude.  But, you do tend to be a brash.  Especially when you don’t know the person.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **That’s one thing.  And yes, I’m aware I tend to be a bit closed off to strangers.  But this. . . This was really bad.**

Stiles  
 **You might be rude, but you’re not a bad guy.  I doubt it was that bad.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I think you might have punched me, if I said it to you.**

Any lingering thoughts Stiles had about his own evening _almost_ disappeared with that text.  What the hell did Mr. Grumpy say that was that horrible?  He was barely ever _mean_. He might use some dry wit or sarcasm or be crafty with words to rebut Stiles, but Stiles would never call him mean. Stiles, on the other hand, could be mean.

Stiles  
 **Dude, what did you do?**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I was trying to be nonchalant, but the whole thing backfired.**

Stiles  
 **What did you do????**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **There was this guy, and I had kinda used a stupid excuse to talk to him?   But when he figured out the excuse he got really angry.**

Stiles heart dropped to his stomach as he read Mr. Grumpy’s most current text. Even though they had never met, Stiles couldn’t help but feel disappointed that he was interested in some other guy. Stiles’ heart sunk even further as remembered the man that had torn his heart to pieces hours ago.  Most of the anger was gone and all that was left was deep disappointment due to their words.

“Snap out of it,” Stiles muttered to himself and replied back to Mr. Grumpy, trying to get lost in his problems instead.

Stiles  
 **What the fuck was your excuse?**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **That wasn’t the bad thing I said.**

Stiles  
 **It gets worse?**

Stiles typed it out as his eyebrows rose. He could see Mr. Grumpy using a stupid excuse to talk to a guy and not really thinking it through. He can be a little awkward like that. Maybe the guy was a bit of a jerk for getting angry.  Maybe he was homophobic or something equally as dumb.  It didn’t really matter. 

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Yeah. As I tried to play it off. I might have said things about his mom?**  

Suddenly, his text about Stiles’ punching him made much more sense.

Stiles  
 **Please don’t tell me that she’s gone**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **. . .**

Stiles  
 **Dude**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I know  
** **I know  
** **I fucked up.**

Stiles  
 **You think?**

Stiles wondered if this guy felt as crappy as he did.  Probably not, Stiles decided, chewing on a hangnail.  Other kids that had lost parents that Stiles had met had dealt with it way better than Stiles had.  He tended to get attached, in like an epic way.  He wondered if Derek felt as crappy as Mr. Grumpy did. And again, he doubted it. It seemed like Derek had taken pleasure in telling him how much his little shop sucked now that his mom was gone. Mr. Grumpy, Stiles was sure, would’ve had a shameful look on his face as soon as he had said it. Probably would’ve tried to apologize as well.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I don’t know what to do.**

Stiles tugged at his hangnail, making it bleed.  Stiles didn’t know what to do either.  He didn’t know what to do with the conversation between him and Derek or how to keep the shop open or how to figure out the rest of his life.  But, maybe he could help Mr. Grumpy.  Even if it broke his heart a little in the process. 

Stiles  
 **How much do you like this guy?  Like, how much shit are you willing to do to make it right between you two?**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **That’s not happening.  And I barely know him. He was attractive but that’s it.  
** **I don’t know him like I know you.**

Stiles wasn’t sure what to do with that text. Like, at all.  Sometimes, they had gotten a bit flirty, but this was almost direct.  And it wasn’t realistic. They had never met, and he lived half way around the country, but Stiles couldn’t prevent the little bit of hope that bloomed in his chest. 

Stiles  
 **Then, just leave it.  Leave him alone and don’t make it worse.  Let it go. You did a shitty thing, learn from it and don’t do it again.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **You make it sound so simple.**  

Stiles thought of his night and how he knows letting things go is never that simple.  He thought the state he had fallen into before Mr. Grumpy texted him, and imagined that it was Mr. Grumpy instead of Derek who had said those things.  The same man that had reassured him that he was worthy of his mother’s legacy a bazillion times before.  That he hadn’t meant it, and Stiles tried to let tonight go.

Stiles  
 **Sometimes, you have to make it be.**


	3. Chapter 3

Over the course of the next few months, Stiles’ confidence in keeping the store open started to truly falter. A Fox’s Tale always had authors come and do book signings and readings at the store.  Stiles also reserved special places through the store to display artwork from local artists.  It was October, and A Fox’s Tale had things scheduled with different people till the end of February.  However, Stiles kept getting call after call to cancel the events.

After angrily badgering the sixth person that had called him to tell him the bad news, Stiles found out that Hale’s Wolftastic Books was striking up deals with different publishing houses. The authors were free to appear at A Fox’s Tale to talk about previously published work, but anything new could only be presented at Hale’s Wolftastic Books. 

The artists didn’t have contractual obligations, but apparently Hale’s was offering them a better venue than A Fox’s Tale, or so a reluctant artist told Stiles on the phone.  A certain few were even asking for Stiles to take their work down from A Fox’s Tale.

It might be a children’s shop, Stiles thought, but there were always adults present.  The children always had parents accompany them, because what child walks through downtown Beacon Hills on their own?  The shop was always crowded with farmer market goers, parents, teens, and children alike on Sundays.  Plus, there were plenty of adult events held at the shop, although depending on how many more authors canceled on him, those might be steeply declining.

However, the artists weren’t buying it and were convinced that Hale’s Wolftastic Books would gain them better opportunities as a chain store and by the larger market they cater too.  They didn’t sound convinced that A Fox’s Tale would stay open for long. 

Stiles ranted about all of this, in detail, to Kira after the last call as she pushed him from the floor where customers could hear him and into his office.  She shut the door firmly behind them.

“It’s just those, ugh, stupid, thieving, and stealing Hales!  They’ve already started to win over the town and they haven’t even opened yet!  What else do you think they’re going to steal from our store? Are they going to rip off or copyright the decorations in here too?  Find another me and do Stiles’ Story Time?”

“Um,” Kira started, looking nervously back at the door. “You need to calm down. The customers can hear you.”

“So what?”  Stiles barked at her.  “They’re just going to leave anyways and go shop at that stupid soul-sucking giant corporation. Hale’s Wolftastifc Books.” Stiles scoffed. “More like Hale’s the Big Bad Wolf. The big bad wolf that’s trying to blow my little shop down.  How the hell am I supposed to build myself a fucking brick house?” Stiles picked up a book from his desk and slammed it on the ground to make his point.

“Not scaring the customers away would be a start.” Kira said as she picked up the poor book Stiles had slammed on the ground. Immediately, Kira opened the book to the title page.  The edition of this book was almost a hundred years old and had a nondescript cover.

“ _Pride and Prejudice?_ Really, Stiles? That’s the book you’ve been slowly reading for the past few months?”

“Uh, yeah.  It’s. . .” Stiles trailed off, momentarily forgetting his current frustrations as he gingerly took the book from Kira.  His thoughts strayed to the texts he had exchanged with Mr. Grumpy about the book.  “It’s nothing,” he finished, and he put his book back on the desk so it wasn’t near the edge and in danger of falling.

Kira hedged and hesitated before she asked her next question.  “Why’s it taking you so long to read?  It’s not _that_ long.”

Stiles bit his lip and adverted his eyes before he muttered, “It was my mom’s favorite, alright?”

He dropped into his chair and picked up a pen and started chewing it.  He cleared his throat and turned his chair to look at Kira.  “So.  This thing. With the authors. It’s a problem. Got any ideas?”

“It’s not that bad,” Kira said with her voice high.

It wasn’t very convincing.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should get Isaac in here.  I don’t need to be lied to.”

Kira fidgeted with her braid and then started to turn around to exit the office, but stopped abruptly and turned right back around.  “Look. I like this shop. I like this job. The kids aren’t too spoiled and it’s extremely flexible, but I don’t know anything about how this shop is run. All I know is that we basically come out even every month.  Talk to Mrs. Martin before you decide how bad this is.  I know you guys spend a lot of money on those readings.  You guys might not always have to pay the authors, but you guys tend to have a lot of different food and drinks for free. You might be surprised with what the numbers come out with.”

Stiles nodded.  “Thanks, Kira.” 

Kira nodded before she left the office, closing the door quietly behind her.

Stiles turned back to his computer, waking it up. A bunch of college websites popped up. He forgot he had been looking at those earlier that morning when it was much calmer.  Stiles sat and stared at them for a minute before sighing and closing all the windows. 

* * *

 

Derek was at Hale’s Wolftastic Books when his phone buzzed.  It was four months since he arrived in Beacon Hills, and the store finally had all of the basic necessities.  They had plumbing, electricity, heating, and even internet. Construction, on the other hand, was still a work in progress.  There were a few unexpected delays and hitches when electric started installing. Redesigns had been necessary.

Redesigns were a nightmare, and Derek hated working on them.  Just one more reason in why he wanted a different job. 

Derek quickly wrapped up his current conversation with his co-worker, Satomi, and then excused himself for an early lunch. He stopped by his car to grab his bag as he made his way to the closest park.  Once there, he settled down on a bench and pulled out his sandwich, wonderfully made by Boyd, the current comic he was reading, and his phone. As he expected, the buzz from his phone was a text from Smartass.

Smartass  
**Sometimes I hate being the boss.  It’s so much work. I just want to be a mindless worker for the day**

Derek smiled as he bit into his meat filled sandwich and responded with his opposite hand. 

Derek  
**I know you well enough to know that you would be challenging your co-workers and the rules within moments, lead a revolution and end up as the boss within a month.**

Smartass  
**But I’m tiiiiiiiiired.  So many fucking problems.  
****Make someone else deal with them.**

Derek rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but feel affection for the idiot.  He worked just as much as Derek did, and Derek was well aware of those feelings. 

Derek  
**You do know you can hire someone to do that for you, right?**  

Smartass  
**Can’t afford it. Not worth it.  Plus, I’ll be mad that they won’t do it the way I would’ve.**  

Derek chuckled in response, his eyes crinkling at the corners at Smartass being self-aware enough to know he would make someone’s life living hell.

Derek  
**Surprise, Surprise.**

Smartass  
**Shut up.**

Derek thought about what he deeply wanted, a vacation, even though his job in Beacon Hills had just gotten started. He felt the need to just get away from his sister for a little while and enjoy the peacefulness of the town. Maybe just talk to Smartass all day. Maybe even meet him. 

Derek  
**You could take a vacation.**

Smartass  
**What don’t you understand about Can’t Afford It?  I can say it again.   I don’t have the money for it.  Or the time. And I can’t do that to the business. Or my employees. It wouldn’t be fair.**

Derek  
**Life isn’t fair.**

Smartass  
**No shit**

Derek  
**Actual advice? I’m in a supervisor position as well. Maybe you can’t afford a long weekend or a week off, but take an extra hour here or there.  Maybe leave early if you can.  It’s an easier way to gather your thoughts for later and then steamroll ahead.**

Smartass  
**That’s actually. . .pretty good advice.**

Derek  
**Don’t sound so surprised.**

Smartass  
**Ah, c’mon man. It’s just that on paper it seems like you shouldn’t know what you’re doing.  I mean you work in a family business and have, like, two friends.   And your family.**

Derek  
**So do you think I’m spoiled or that I’m socially awkward?**

Smartass  
**Both?**

Derek frowned, and tried to ignore the sudden appearance of the pit in his stomach.  That wasn’t how he wanted to come off to Smartass. 

Smartass  
**I mean, not actually.  I’ve talked to you. I KNOW you’re socially awkward, dude. I mean that’s how this whole communication thing got started.  I know you’re not lazy.  You’re too dedicated for that. And from the hours we text, probably a work-aholic who works way to fucking much.  Just like me.  But sometimes, family businesses.  They’re weird. They function weird. The family parts weird.  So you know.**

Derek  
**I think you were trying to make me feel better, but all of that just read as criticism.**

Smartass  
**Whatever. I like you.  You’re a good person.  
****There. Happy?**

Derek  
**I’ve decided to take a break from the Batman Comics**

Derek, as promised, had read the Red Hood.  He had found himself unintentionally hooked and stayed up all night to read it. He’s slowly been going through other Batman comics, pacing himself a little better.

Smartass  
**WHAT? WHY?**

Derek  
**I got Watchman last night.**

Smartass  
**Well, that’s allowed then.  
****Have you started it yet?**

Derek  
**I read a bit last night.  I really like the parallels with the Tales of the Black Freighter.  I was going to read more during lunch.**

Smartass  
**Lunch? Like now lunch?**

Derek

**Yes**

Mr. Smartass  
**What are you doing talking to me?  Go, read, absorb the brilliance.**

Derek  
**Yes, sir.**

Derek chuckled as he texted Smartass back. Although, once again they had talked about his own progress into the comic world, and Smartass managed to avoid talking about _Pride and Prejudice._ Derek thoughtStiles probably haven’t picked up the book in about a month due to the lack of texts about it.  Derek realized that it was a hard book for Stiles to read, but he was determined to get him back on the path of reading it.  Tonight, he would bring it up, and Smartass would not distract him from it. 

 

After Derek, Boyd, and Bailey took their daily run in the forest preserve, they settled down in the den to eat dinner. Boyd watched some crime show on TV while Derek finished _Watchman._

Derek closed the comic with a satisfied sigh and pulled out his phone. 

Derek  
**That was insightful**

Smartass  
**?**

Derek  
**Watchman, smartass**

Smartass  
**You finished it all ready?  That was fast.**

Derek  
**I enjoyed it. Didn’t want to put it down.**

Smartass  
**SEE! I told you!  
****Comics are fucking amazing!**

Derek rolled in his eyes.  He should’ve known by now, give Smartass an inch and he’d take a mile. At least when it came to being right.

Derek  
**Graphic Novels.**

Smartass  
**Nooow, you say that.  
****How many have you read now?**

Derek looked over at his bookcase where there was an entire row dedicated just to graphic novels.

Derek  
**You know. One or Two.**  

Smartass  
**Oh, yeah. I totally believe that  
****What’s your favorite, dude?  
****C’mon curious minds, need to know**

Derek traced his finger along the spines. He lingered on _Red Hood,_ his first, which stood out in his mind, but then glanced down to _Watchman_ on his lap.

Derek  
**Watchman, I think**

Smartass  
**Seriously? The much beloved classics of batman and the dc verse don’t capture you’re heart?**

Derek  
**I like its directness**

  
Smartass  
**Of course you do**

Derek  
**I’m serious. It forces you to think about humanity and the right and wrong paths.  It’s out in the open in Watchman.  In the comics and an implied undertone that you can choose to ignore.**

Smartass  
**I guess**

Derek  
**That’s the best I’m going to get from you, isn’t it?**

Smartass  
**To criticizing my favorite comic company?  Yes.  
****You should look into Gaiman’s Sandman.  It’s not as in your face, but it’s not superheroes either.**  

Derek  
**You’re recommending something that doesn’t revolve around a superhero?**

Smartass  
**Shut up.**

Derek  
**It was just a question**

Smartass  
**Sure it was**

Derek  
**Thanks. I will.**

Derek took a moment to make a note on his phone to look it up.  Now, it was time to turn the tables. 

Derek  
**How are you enjoying Pride and Prejuidce?**

Smartass  
**Um, it’s good**

Derek  
**You still haven’t gotten passed Lizzie’s arrival in Kent, have you?**

Smartass  
**Of course I have**

Derek  
**Oh, really?**

Smartass  
**Yeah. Totally.**

Derek  
**Prove it**

Smartass  
**Mr. Collins is still a prick**

Derek  
**Wow, your literary analyst skills astound me**

Smartass  
**Ok, fine. I haven’t**

Derek  
**I thought you wanted to read the book?**

Smartass  
**I do!  
****It’s just weird.  
****Especially, here.  
****Like what does Charlotte see in Collins?  How is she actually happy?  
****I thought Austen satired their society.  This just makes it seem like women want to be married and stuff. Very putting them in their place**

Derek  
**How can you even say that, compared to Lizzie?**

Smartass  
**I don’t know. It’s easier than thinking that Lizzie’s view of Collins is all wrong.  
****It would make her unreliable narrator, and that doesn’t feel right either.**

Derek  
**Maybe Austen has a better understanding of feminism than our own society.  You should be allowed to have what you want – without judgment.  
****If Charlotte wanted to married and a wife, that’s her right.**

Smartass  
**Like it’s Lizzie’s right to turn down Collins marriage proposal?**

Derek  
**Exactly**

Smartass  
**I guess that makes sense**

Derek  
**You guess?**

Smartass  
**Yeah. I guess.**

Derek  
**It’s while Lizzie’s at Kent things just start to get interesting, by the way.**

Smartass  
**Start? A botched proposal by her cousin isn’t interesting enough?**

Derek  
**Nope**

Smartass  
**Well, fuck. That does sound interesting.**

Derek  
**Go read**

Smartass  
**Yes, sir**

It felt very hot in the den all of a sudden. Derek yanked at his shirt collar for some relief. 

He froze when he heard Boyd snort from over on the couch.

“What?”  Derek asked.

Boyd only shrugged.  “Enjoying your books?” 

It seemed like an innocent question, but Boyd had a small smile on his face that Derek didn’t trust.

“Yes," Derek replied shortly, frowning at him.

Boyd nodded and turned back to his TV show. Derek frowned even harder, wondering what that was about before he turned his attention back to the bookshelf.

“When was the last time you went on a date?”

Derek whipped his head around, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and jaw dropped slightly. “What?”

“Last date?”

Derek didn’t respond, still trying to figure out how they had gone from a brief mention of books to romantic relationships.

Boyd rolled his eyes.  “How about sex?  A hook-up?” He paused and Derek still didn’t respond.  “Anything. Sexting.  Some webcamera action.”

Derek just blinked a few times, but he did try to come up with an answer.  The closest he had thought about asking anyone out was that stupid storekeeper, which, well. They didn’t have sex or date, and he wasn’t going to tell Boyd about that.  Before that. .  .

“I’m not sure,” he finally responded truthfully.

He wondered if that should bug him, but it really didn’t.  He was kinda happy at the moment.  For the most part, he liked Beacon Hills.  He would never admit it, but he had missed Laura in New York when she left for California. He liked being able to see her face every day, and he liked to see her happy with the love of her life.

And then there was his relationship with Smartass. They might not be _together_ but it still made him happy to talk to him every day, and Smartass knew him better than he knew himself.  Smartass was the one that made him finally admit he didn’t want to work at Hale’s forever and how he would love to get closer to the books. Smartass recommended looking into publishing houses.

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t had sex with anyone or been on a date.  He was happy. Derek mentally prepared to prove that to Boyd, but when he looked over at Boyd, he was smiling at him.  

“I – what?”  Derek asked Boyd, still hopelessly lost in where the conversation was supposed to be.

“Nothing.” Boyd shrugged, and picked up his beer and took a drink.  “You just have it bad is all.”

Again, Boyd turned his attention back to the TV screen, but this time Derek was the one who wasn’t finished with the conversation yet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boyd’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t turn towards Derek. “Sure.”

Derek couldn’t help but growl a little. The entire conversation was utterly ridiculous from beginning to end.  The growl upset Bailey, who jumped up and put her head in his lap, whining trying to make him feel better.  Derek slowly petted her soft ears, but it didn’t wipe the scowl off his face. Finally, Boyd paused the TV program.

“You are completely gone on him.”

When Derek’s demeanor didn’t change, Boyd added, “I mean, I’ve never seen you pick up a graphic novel in your life.  Actually, I’ve heard you go on rants on some of them.   Granted, they’re normally focused on the anime ones, but you were prejudiced against them. Now, you go through two a week at least, and they’re starting to overtake your bookshelf. “

“I’m not _gone_ on him,”  Derek grumbled.  Gone implied an affection pretty darn close to love. He might have a crush on him. He might really like him, but love? They’d never even met in person.

“Derek, it’s fine.  You are, and you’re happy.  Beyond that, I don’t care.”  For the last time that night, Boyd turned back to the television to finish his show.

Derek blinked at Boyd before looking down at Bailey. He wondered how his argument against Boyd was turned against him.  He wasn’t in love.  Not yet.

* * *

 Stiles sipped on his caramel macchiato, hoping that the sugar and caffeine would somehow translate to bright ideas instead of keeping him up for the rest of the night.     He was sitting in Natalie’s library across the table from her and Lydia.  They had been going over numbers for the past few hours, and Stiles just wanted to ram his head against the mahogany table.

The facts weren’t awful.  Kira’s guess about how much the store brought in and how much the store spent during author and artist nights was pretty much correct.   They had spent almost as much as they had earned, meaning losing those nights and signings wasn’t the end of the world, but it sure as hell was depressing and nerve-wracking for what it meant for the store.  Unfortunately, their numbers for the past two months were down compared to last year. It was less than 10% difference, but small things were going to add up, especially if Hale’s Wolftastic Books hadn’t even opened yet.   Funny enough, the month that Hale’s announced they were coming to town was 20% more profitable than the year before. 

Natalie was recommending laying a couple of workers off and insisting on claiming a percentage of what was made by the breakfast vendor on Sundays or charging a flat fee for them to be able to sell their in the store.

“No,” Stiles said shortly. 

“It’ll help – “

“I’m not laying anyone off.  There is no way I would be able to function without all of them,” Stiles explained.

Well, all except Isaac, but if he fired Isaac, Scott would kill him. 

Natalie glanced at her daughter. Lydia shrugged her shoulders, pretending to be unaffected by the entire conversation.  Natalie shook her head and closed a folder of paperwork on the table. “Fine.  What about getting a percentage of the Sunday vendor?”

Stiles squirmed. 

Natalie’s idea about the Sunday’s vendor made a lot sense.  He just wished someone had suggested to him seven years ago, when he first approached Sophie’s Crepes into serving food in the shop on Sunday mornings. 

“I know we should –“

Natalie folded her arms. “We should have been doing this for years”

“Right. But we haven’t.  How do we demand money from them now?  I’d rather still have them on Sundays than them huffing off because of a money thing and not come back at all.”

“You’d have a point,” Lydia said, “If it wasn’t Beacon Hills.  All of those stores are family owned.  None of them want Hale’s Wolftastic Books to succeed.  They’ll back you up.”

It made sense, but Stiles was still worried something would go wrong.  “Yeah, but-“

“How about this,” Natalie interrupted. “We can approach Sophie’s first. They were the first ones to work with   us.  We’ll take it slow.  One business at a time and see how it goes.  Play it by ear.”

Stiles nodded, relenting. 

Natalie smiled for the first time in the meeting and jotted something down.

Lydia frowned.  “It’s not going to be enough.  You need to stir up trouble, Stiles.  We should organize protests and talk to our connections to have something written in The Beacon.  We can stir up the town. You’re good at that. Get angry, talk loud and have a debate. They’re a giant chain in a small town that’s built and functions on local stores.  They have no right to be here, and it would be easy to pitch. I’m surprised you haven’t already.”

Stiles took another sip of his macchiato before he answered her.  “I just don’t think it’s necessary.Just yet,” he added before she could interrupt him. “We’re doing okay, and we don’t really know what Hale’s is actually going to do to our numbers. It could be a great rally, but we don’t need a rally right now.  It would be going in for the blitz attack way too quickly.”

Lydia sighed.  “I hate that you just made perfect sense.”

Stiles smirked.  “You’ve been all hot air since they’ve announced they were coming to town, which is generally my position.  What’s had you so worked up about the store anyways?”  Stiles asked, glancing at Natalie. 

Natalie put down her mug of hot tea, and looked at her daughter as well, waiting for an answer.

“I knew it was bad news for your bookstore. You forget that I nearly grew up in there too.  Besides, chains don’t belong here.”

“Hmm, I think you rather excited for a potential chain store last year,” her mother said slyly.  “What was it again?”

Lydia’s lips pulled tight.  “Fine. I was upset because the town agreed to have Hale’s Wolftastic Books to move in on Main Street, but it shut down the possibility of having Sak’s department store.  If the town can’t have Sak’s, than it doesn’t deserve Hales’.”

“You came storming into my apartment at three in the fucking morning because you were pissed it wasn’t a Sak’s?” Stiles asked incredulously.

Lydia sat up straighter in her seat and pulled her skinny vanilla latte near her.  “It wasn’t three am, it was five am, and you did need to hear about it. It was vital information.”

“Not at five in the morning it wasn’t,” Stiles muttered.

As the Martins tried to come up with other schemes to keep the store going, his phone buzzed. Stiles brightened when he saw the text.

Mr. Grumpy  
**Hey  
****How’s Pride and Prejuidce?**

Stiles looked up at the Martins and were happy to see they were in a heated debate.  He had about five  minutes before they realized he wasn’t participating. 

Stiles  
**I haven’t had time since I talked to you last night  
****But, dude, I’m still reeling from that letter Darcy gave her.  
****Like, it was intense.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**Intense? That’s the word you use?**  

Stiles  
**I guess you could call it romantic. Or sweet. And maybe kinda sad.**

Mr. Grumpy  
**No, I think intense covers all of it**

Stiles  
**Doesn’t mean it’s wrong.**

The closest Stils could imagine to that situation was if Derek wrote him a letter like that – or maybe if _he_ wrote Derek a letter like that.  And that was way to confusing for head and heart to handle. He couldn’t imagine how Lizzie would’ve felt.

  
Stiles  
**Unfortunately, I’m stuck in a business meeting, all night.  Talk tomorrow?**

Mr. Grumpy  
**I’m holding you to that**

Stiles  
**You better**

Stiles sighed as he turned his phone screen off and prepared himself to jump back into the debate with the Martins.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Derek growled at his phone.  It was hard enough to believe that Smartass _still_ hadn’t finished _Pride & Prejudice _even though he started it almost six months ago, and it was almost cold enough to keep snow on the ground.  Extra frustration was added on because Derek couldn’t understand what the fuck Smartass was trying to say as they talked about it. Derek _thought_ that Smartass just got to the part where Lizzie visits Pemberley, but he’s not entirely sure.

Smartass  
 **Ekfnb;obn!!!!!  
** **Sorry, man.  
** **I just feel FEELINGS right now.  
** **Words suck.  
** **These are the kinda talks I wish we could have in person.  
** **I mean, I love talking to you, you know?  But, sometimes I wish we could talk beyond just words.  It might mean more or something.**

Derek felt nervous excitement quickly bubble up in his chest at Smartass’ texts.  Before he could chicken out, he quickly texted back.

Derek  
 **We could? Meet in person and talk about it. And other things.**

Ever since Boyd brought up that Derek loved Smartass a couple of months ago, Derek had thought about a lot about it. He refused to admit that he was in love with the man, but his feelings for him were preventing him from forming any other relationships.  Maybe, it was the perfect time to take a chance.  He could hear his heart pound loudly in his chest as he waited for a response. 

Smartass  
 **Dude, aren’t you, like, on the other side of the country?  That would be absurd.**

Derek  
 **Actually, I’m in California for work.**

Derek waited for a response but nothing came. The hope bubbles were rapidly bursting and their shells of disappointment were filling up the bottom of his stomach. Eventually, Derek stopped staring at his phone and tried to distract himself by playing fetch with Bailey in the living room. 

When his phone finally buzzed ten minutes later, he practically threw himself at it, but then froze when he went to open the text.  What if he had completely crossed a line?  If Smartass didn’t want to meet, then what?  Was Derek going to spend the rest of his life pining after him?  Derek had just spent the last ten minutes agonizing over a response, it was stupid to delay when he finally had it.  Derek closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he opened the text.

Smartass  
 **I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.**  

Derek shakily let out a breath. Was Smartass going to stop talking to Derek altogether now?

Smartass  
 **But seriously, I want to read Pride and Prejudice.  You just got to get on my ass about it.  I want to read it and talk about it with you.**

_I wish I could get on your ass_ , Derek thought pathetically.  And if Smartass hadn’t just turned him down, he might have actually typed it out.  Instead, Derek ignored the thought. 

Derek  
 **I’m not your father. And you’re not using me to do your homework.**

Mr. Smartass  
 **Dude, that’s not it at all!  
** **Not completely anyways.  Just, please? For me?**

Derek hadn't been able to say no to Smartass for a while.  Now was no exception.

Derek  
 **Only because it’s one of my favorite books.  
** **You deserve to suffer through it just like I have suffered through your comic book collection.**

Smartass  
 **EXCUSE YOU.  
** **First of all, they’re called GRAPHIC NOVELS.  Which you know!  
** **Second of all, I call BULLSHIT!  Suffer through them my ass.  You were begging for more after the first one!**

Derek felt his cheeks get warm as he read the last text.  Just the implication of him begging to Smartass. . .well, not all the blood was going to his cheeks. Derek couldn’t help but imagine being laid out on his bed with his legs spread out and prepping himself as Smartass watched.  Derek begging for Smartass to touch him, to slide his dick inside of him. 

Derek wasn’t the only one to see the implication of the sentence.  Smartass sent the next text only five seconds later.

Smartass  
 **;)**

Derek swallowed thickly and readjusted himself, glad he was alone in his bedroom.

Derek  
 **You’re the one begging now.**  

Derek felt proud that he was able to come up with a witty comeback that didn’t portray his awkwardness that he still felt from Smartass turning down his invitation to meet him.  Sadly, he could even imagine Smartass’ snort to Derek’s text.

Smartass  
 **Only in your dreams.  
** **Or should I say fantasies?**

This time it was Derek that snorted out loud. Derek glanced outside at the dark night sky and watched the branches of the trees rattle against the heavy wind. Just looking outside made him feel the chill.  Derek pulled his sweater sleeves to his fingertips and got up to make himself some hot chocolate. As he put the kettle on the stove, he replied to Smartass. 

Derek  
 **Wouldn’t you like to know what my fantasies consisted of.**

Smartass  
 **I have a few educated guesses.**

Derek  
 **Or really? You’ve thought about my fantasies?**

Smartass  
 **Dude, I know you okay?  I mean, I know your deepest, darkest secrets.  Which will be used for blackmail one day, of course.  I know your most secret of fantasies.**

Derek almost drops the mug he was holding as he reads Smartass’ latest text.  His most secret fantasies are ones that stay between him, his sheets, and his dreams. Ones that feature Smartass in the guise of Stiles almost every night. 

Smartass  
 **You, Mr. Grumpy, want to leave your family business behind. You want to do your own thing and be a book editor.  Make your own path and get back down to the roots of your literature degree.  But, you love your family too much to ever do that to them.**

Derek sighed a little bit in relief. Smartass was probably right, in terms of his non-sexual secrets.  He can’t help but smile a little at the thought that Smartass knows him well enough to know his biggest secret better than he did. 

Derek grabbed his now very hot mug filled with hot chocolate and headed over to the sofa.  He grabbed a blanket that his grandparents quilted for him and made himself comfortable.  Bailey even hopped up onto the couch and burrowed herself into his side.  Derek smiled as he ran his fingers through her fur. He turned his attention back to his phone.   He settled himself down to enjoy his Saturday night texting with Smartass and with the people he loved most, while trying to forget that Smartass didn’t want to meet.

* * *

 

Stiles couldn’t help but let the low growl escape from his throat.  He was at Thompson’s Foods and Goods, the local grocery store, and had caught sight of a fit, dark-haired man.  Stiles had seen Mr. Derek Hale _everywhere_ lately. He'd run to him on Main Street.  He was at the café when Stiles went to get lunch.  Laura and the kids, and sometimes Derek, popped in every Sunday for Story Time.  When Scott and Stiles started to run again to help deal with stress (Scott’s not-actual relationship with Allison for Scott and how to keep A Fox’s Tale in business for Stiles), they even had to change their route from the preserve to the gym because one, they kept running into Derek and his friend, Boyd, at least that’s what Stiles thinks his name is, and two, it was freaking cold outside.

Last week, at the same grocery store, Stiles had turned a corner and literally ran his cart into Derek’s.  Derek was stammering out apologies before he even saw Stiles, and when he did his eyes grew wide in surprise.  Stiles didn’t wait to see any further response and got the hell out of the grocery store, abandoning his cart by the cashiers.

This time, however, Stiles wasn’t going to run and cower from Derek.  If he kept his eyes open, he should be easy enough to avoid and ignore, which wasn’t the same thing as running.  At all. Avoidance meant he got his grocery shopping done and didn't have to come back a few hours later because he literally had no food left in his apartment.

So, with the plan in mind, Stiles quickly steered his almost empty cart to the front of the store and traded it for one of the baskets. It would be stealthier and quicker in the aisles than the cart.   It would also less likely to lead to shopping cart collisions that Stiles was prone to having.  He headed over to the cereal aisle and was debating between two of his favorites, Lucky Charms and Cinnamon Toast Crunch, when he caught a sight of Derek entering the aisle. Blindly, Stiles reached out for a box of cereal and headed in the opposite direction.

By the time Stiles went to check out thirty minutes later, it had happened four more times.  If Stiles didn’t know better, he’d think that Derek was _following_ him.  Well, actually, Stiles thought, he _didn’t_ know better.  Stiles thought about how he didn’t know Derek at all as he loaded his items on the belt for the cashier.

What if Derek was following him? It would explain why he’d seen him just about fucking everywhere.  Plus, wasn’t it suspicious that Derek more or less lied to Stiles when they first met? And then, suspiciously ran into Stiles at Lydia’s party?  If he remembered correctly, Derek hadn’t been thrilled to have his name outed in front of Stiles either.  Stiles blindly paid the cashier, grabbed his bags, and headed to his jeep while building up the conspiracy in his head.  As Stiles dropped the bags in the back of the jeep, he decided that he was going to visit his dad at the station.  After all, his dad was going to want to protect his one and only son, right?

Of course, the Sheriff’s station was on the opposite side of town, but luckily, Stiles knew a short cut.  It basically consisted of a dirt road that ran right through some of the fields that Beacon Hills had over by the preserve.  It was almost never used, because, technically, it was private property.  But Stiles was pretty sure the owners, Mr. and Mrs. Strasser, didn't really care if he uses it or not.  If they wouldn’t want anyone to use it, why would they have it? Besides, it wasn't like he’s going to get caught.  It was late at night with only a few stars in the sky to light the path.  There were no streetlights and no one else wanted to risk their car the path.  Stiles wasn’t worried about the dirt road or lack of light.  His car was a jeep and could handle a bit of bouncing around, and he’d taken the road many times and knows it pretty well.

There were things that Stiles didn't take into consideration.  That it was one of the coldest winters that Beacon Hills had ever had.  That yesterday had consisted of sleeting rain that froze overnight.  The town had been prepared for this winter and had stocked up on salt and even bought a plow for the streets.  So, the main streets were fine.  The dirt road, however, was not, which was clear to Stiles just about ten seconds after he turned onto the road, when he hit a patch of black ice and started to skid.

Now, Beacon Hills didn't have a lot of cold winters and didn't see a lot of snow or ice. The residents weren't used to driving in winter conditions.  As the car started to skid, all Stiles could think of was his driver’s ed teacher, Finstock, screaming at them to “NEVER SLAM ON THE BRAKES or you might end up in an accident resulting in the loss of your left testicle.” So, Stiles did the complete opposite and quickly pushed down on the accelerator.

The jeep lost traction completely and started to spin wildly out of control, and then it hit a bump in the road. _Aw, shit_ , Stiles thought  His hands gripped tight on the steering wheel and he squeezed his eyes tight as he felt the jeep start to tip.

* * *

 

Derek couldn’t help but let out a resigned sigh as he caught sight of Stiles leaving the grocery store.  He had made a few attempts to talk to him when he saw him the aisles, but it became clear that Stiles was avoiding him.

Derek had just wanted to. . .God, Derek didn’t even know what he was trying to accomplish.  Apologize?  There was the comment about his mom or for almost putting his store under. Or perhaps, for not telling him the truth in the beginning.  Derek wasn’t completely sure.  It didn’t really matter, anyways, Derek tried to convince himself when went to check out. He was over the slight crush on the guy he had when he first met him.  Derek pretty much resigned his heart belonging to Smartass.

However, Derek still didn’t like the thought of the guy hating him.  It didn’t help that Beacon Hills was a small ass town and he saw him everywhere. Or that going to Story Time was Jenny and Max’s favorite time of the week.  And, Derek really didn’t enjoy Jenny and Max asking why Stiles the Story Teller was glaring at him the entire time when he would go. Stiles could do no wrong to the kids’ eyes, so it had to be Derek’s fault.  And, it was.  

Derek headed out to his car and was ready to go home. The winter weather might not be as bad as New York, for which he as grateful, but it was still starting to get to him.  There was a cheddar broccoli soup that he picked up and was eager to enjoy for dinner when he got home. Derek pulled his phone out of his pocket and dropped into the cup holder.  He was surprised to see that he had a text.  He'd never even felt his phone vibrate.

Smartass  
 **I think I have a stalker.**

Derek frowned at the screen, not entirely sure if this was something he was supposed to take seriously or not. Knowing Smartass, Derek just wanted to laugh at him and tell him that he was being a drama king. But, Derek didn’t really know. He felt a curl of disappointment and dread wind itself into his stomach as he thought about how he didn’t really know Smartass’ life.  He didn’t know every aspect of it or see what was happening when he went to and from work.  What if there was some girl or guy hanging around him all the time?  What if he really was being followed? 

Derek  
 **What do you mean?**

Derek sat in his car waiting for answer. The dread began to seep its way to the rest of his body.  Smartass almost always responded right away, especially when he was the one that started a conversation. 

Derek  
 **Are you okay?**

Five minutes later, Derek still didn’t have an answer. 

“Fuck,” he murmured.

He tried not to panic, but he couldn’t help but imagine him being taken or taunted by some wackjob.  He took a shaky breath and dropped his phone back into the car holder.  Derek would go home and hopefully by the time he got there, he would have a response. If not, he would call him until he answered. Derek was so worried that it didn’t even occur to him to be nervous for calling Smartass for the first time ever.

* * *

 Stiles groaned as he awoke from unconsciousness. He blinked a couple of times and tried to comprehend his surroundings.  He was still in his car, and he could feel the seat belt tight hugging him tight across his chest.  Through the windshield, all he could see was dirt.  He tried to sit up, only to realize that the jeep had fallen on its left side.  He had been slammed against the driver’s front door and window when his car crashed. His entire left side of his body hurt. Using his right hand, he carefully felt along his left side of his body, from his legs up.  Everything seemed to be fine, except for some major bruising until he got up to his head.  He felt something wet just above his ear.  He pulled his hand away to examine the liquid on his hand.  It was red.  Blood. Stiles grimaced and felt a little further up to find what a small cut along his hairline.

All in all, Stiles deduced, he was okay and went to unclip the seatbelt.  He readjusted his body from the awkward angle as the constraint came undone. Finally able to move, Stiles went to grab his cell phone from his pocket, but his pockets were empty. Stiles squinted around the car to see where it had fallen out, but he couldn’t distinguish it from the rest of the shapes in the dark.  He couldn’t help but groan; this wasn’t going to be a fun process.

Making a decision to get out of the wrecked car next instead of continuing a possibly fruitless search for his cell, he started the process of trying to open the passenger’s door.  Luckily, the mechanics still worked and the door was easy enough to unlock and swing open.  As Stiles gingerly tried to lift himself up and over the car door opening, a bright, blinding light shone in Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles dropped back down to the car floor, which was the driver’s door in this case, and rapidly blinked as his eyes adjusted to the new light.  The bright lights were headlights of a dark and very nice-looking car that had pulled onto the path.  It had stopped at the beginning of the path, and Stiles wondered if the car was planning on being a big enough asshole to just turn around and forget him.  Stiles narrowed his eyes at the car, waiting for a verdict. In response, the car slowly crept to just behind his jeep.

“I just called the police,” the driver greeted as he stepped out of the car.  

Stiles squinted trying to see the guy more clearly, but Stiles couldn’t get the details due to the glare of the headlights. He sounded really familiar.

“They’re sending an ambulance,” the guy continued.  “I don’t think they’re going to want you to move.”

Stiles resisted hitting his head against his car. Ambulances were fucking expensive, especially when he practically had his own free and personal nurse in Mrs. McCall.  He wasn’t sure how he was going to pay for that and what his jeep would need.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Stiles groaned out. “I’m fine.  All I need is a tow.  And possibly a hand to get out of this thing.”

“Your car was completely flipped over, what was I supposed to do?” the guy shot back angrily, walking closer and closer to Stiles and his jeep.

Stiles shrugged.  He was going over how much this was going to set in back in his personal finances and how much it would affect the store.

The guy was finally standing at the right angle, so Stiles could finally see his features.  Tall, dark hair, dark stubble, and stupidly not-green eyes. The same features that he had spent the previous hour ignoring.

“You’ve got to fucking kidding me,” Stiles hissed.

Derek Hale opened his mouth to speak, but Stiles didn’t give him the chance.

 “First off, if you saw me standing, then why the hell did you feel the need to call a fucking ambulance?  And two, what the hell are you doing here.  Isn’t stalking even low for the Hales?”

Derek crossed his stupidly muscular arms and matched Stiles with a glare of his own.  Stiles would never admit that it was impressive.  Never.

“I’m not _stalking_ you,” he gritted out.

“Oh, yeah?  What do you call it then?  Following closely? That’s basically the definition of stalking, dumbass!”

Derek scowled deeply, and Stiles wondered how he could have ever have thought he was attractive.  The scowl made him look like a serial killer instead of some book keeper. Well, Stiles reconsidered, there was muscles and the artful stubble, and the. . .nope.  Stiles shook his head.  He wasn’t going there.

Stiles wanted to continue yelling at him, though; he had all this energy and fury built up from the crash.  Derek, however, hadn’t responded to his previous remarks.  Stiles bit his lip to prevent him from provoking him. He was so tempted to just go to town on Derek, but it was much more rewarding when Derek fought back. No, instead Derek growled a little and turned on his heel and went back to his car.

Stiles watched suspiciously as Derek opened his trunk, grabbed something, and then stomped his way back. He didn’t stop until he was right on the other side of jeep.  Stiles watched him with bug eyes as Derek leaned inexplicably closer. When Stiles saw Derek lift his right arm up and move towards him, and Stiles immediately flinched away.  He stumbled over some of the debris in his car, and he felt himself falling backwards.  Except, instead of hitting the ground, a warm hand roughly grabbed his left bicep and pulled him upright.

“Shit!” Stiles exclaimed. The soreness in his left arm doubled and throbbed in Derek’s tight grasp. As soon as he was upright, Stiles used his right arm to tug Derek’s fingers free and rubbed his arm, trying to smooth it. Stiles exhaled sharply as he tried to will the pain away.  Stiles frowned at Derek to imply that this was his entire fault, and caught Derek looking almost sheepish.

Derek scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“For what?  Trying to hit me?  I would say that isn’t that a little low, but at this point I’m not even surprised.”

Stiles expected to get anger in response, just like every other interaction they’d exchanged that night.  Instead, Derek stood there looking sad.  And Stiles felt bad.  Where was the Big Bad Wolf that growled and puffed right back in his face? This looked closer to a downtrodden puppy.  Not puppy, Stiles thought, he was too manly to be mistaken for a puppy. But definitely a dog. Maybe a wolf.  It was the same thing.  A poor downtrodden animal, and it made Stiles feel like he actually did hurt the guy’s feelings, which was insane.

“I just wanted to,” Derek mumbled, but instead of finishing his sentence he just held out his right hand, the same hand that Stiles had flinched away from. Derek was holding gauze. It must have been what Derek had grabbed out of his car, Stiles reasoned.

“You’re bleeding,” Derek said, finally looking up and staring at the wound on Stiles’ head.

“Oh,” Stiles said weakly.

He tried to make some sort of joke and laugh, but it all got lost in his throat.  Stiles wasn’t even sure why he thought Derek was going to hit him in the first place.

He grabbed the gauze and lifted it to his wound. “Um, thanks.” 

Derek nodded and then reached into his pocket and pulled out some antiseptic wipes

“Do you mind?”  he asked, obviously not wanting to go through the same procedure as earlier.

“Uh, no, yeah.  That’s fine,” Stiles said, thinking that Derek was just going to give them to him, but no.

Derek unwrapped one of them and then leaned in closer to Stiles.  He slowly brought his arm up and started to clean up the side of Stiles’ face.  Stiles tried to control his breathing as he felt the gentle cooling presence on the side of his face and deal with the upfront and close proximity with Derek’s face.  Derek’s eyes held actual concern, concern for _Stiles_ , as he gently dragged the wipe over Stiles' skin. 

Stiles couldn’t help but remember the first time he met Derek and the adoration he held in his eyes for his niece and nephew. He hated how Derek was making him think of his good side.  Stiles was much more comfortable dealing with his bad side.  The one that spied on his shop and mentioned his mom without any right.

Before Stiles made Derek the bad guy again in his mind **,** red and blue flashing lights appeared on the path.  Stiles’ dad drove up on the path in his Sheriff cruiser, and Stiles could see another pair of flashing lights still on the street, which was probably the ambulance.  Derek jerked away from Stiles and stepped back until he was by his car as soon as they all appeared.

“Stiles!  Are you alright?”  His dad yelled as soon as he exited his vehicle, running the short distance to his son. “Please tell me you’re alright.”

Stiles could see every line of his body tense with worry and the strain around his eyes.  He hated when he caused that.

“I’m fine, Dad.  I promise,” Stiles told him as his dadwrapped his arms around him, not so subtly checking for injuries through the hug. Stiles fiercely hugged him back.

“I’m alright.  It’s okay,”  he chanted quietly until his dad loosened his grip and backed up, his demeanor changing almost immediately now that he was reassured that his son was all right.

“What happened, Stiles?  I’ve told you a million times not to use this road!  It’s private property! And with the ice? What the hell were you thinking?”

“I was just. . .”Stiles started before he hesitated and flicked his eyes towards Derek, remembering what had propelled him to take his road. It was his shortcut to the Sheriff station, because he thought Derek was stalking him.  “I just wanted to see you.  I was being paranoid about something and wasn’t thinking things all the way through.”

Stiles could see the way his dad’seyes softened slightly.  The way they do when he actually believed him. He didn't always, which Stiles couldn't really blame him for, because he wasn't exactly known for telling the truth.

“It still doesn’t mean you should take this road, though. It’s not only dangerous,” the Sheriff gestured around him, “for obvious reasons, but it's private property. The owners could press charges just for the fact that we’re here.  And that includes you,” he added, turning to Derek.  “Not that I’m not glad you weren’t here or that you found my son, but for future reference.”

“Actually,” Stiles heard Derek say. He and his father both turned toward him, causing him to stumble.  “Uh, well. Sir,” Derek attempted to continue, clearly addressing his dad.  Stiles snorted at the sir title.  “It is. Private property. But, um.  I can promise no charges will be pressed. “

His dad narrowed his eyes at him. “And how can you promise that?”

“My family owns the land.  My mom does, actually.  She inherited it.  It’s just other people we hire to run the land and things.”

Stiles couldn't help but gape at him, his mouth falling open in shock.  There’s no way the Hales are native to Beacon Hills, let alone have a history here. It’s like the perfect secret to get the rest of the town on Hale's Wolftastic Books’ side.

The Sheriff scrutinized Derek. “Your mom is an Ingle?  Talia or Moira Ingle?”

Derek nodded.  “Talia. She’s Ingle-Hale now.”

“So wait,” Stiles blurted out. “Does that mean your name is actually Derek Ingle-Hale?”

The Sheriff sighed deeply, probably at his son’s lack of tact or courtesy.  Or both.

Derek shoo his head. “No, they decided it would be too complicated.  The kids are all Hales.  My parents are the only ones that are legally Ingle-Hales.”

“Your dad changed his last name? That’s awesome!” Stiles said, forgetting whom he was talking about.  The Hales (or Ingle-Hales) were anything but awesome.

The Sheriff shook his head, clearly done with the conversation now that his son had started to get involved.  It would only escalate from there.  “I’m going to grab the firefighters.  They’re not going to need to try to get their truck down this path, but we’re going to need some of their tools to get you of there.”

Stiles frowned as he thought about why they would need tools to get him out of the car.

“Whoa, Dad!” Stiles exclaimed as he figured it out.  “There’s no reason to be hasty to tear this car apart to get me out.  So not necessary to hurt my baby anymore than she is.”  Stiles heard Derek snort and turned to glare at him.  “I just need a bit of a boost is all.”

“Stiles,” the sheriff began slowly,  “I’m not sure if the jeep's going to be salvageable.  She was barely able to working as she was.”

“Nope!”  Stiles said loudly.  “I’m not listening. Do you hear how I’m not listening to that kind of pessimism?  The jeep’s going to be fine.  They’ll fix her up in no time at the shop.  They know her real well there.”

The Sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine.  Let’s just get you out of there.”

Derek approached Stiles. “I can help with that. I think you should be able to get out if you manage to stand on the arm of the passenger seat properly.”

Derek strolled up to the edge of the jeep and put his arms out, ready to help Stiles down.  Stiles ignored any swooping feeling in his stomach as he looked at Derek. Stiles awkardly pushed himself up to the passenger’s window.  Derek looked prepared to catch him if he fell.  There were a couple of flails and stumbles, but Stiles made it out of the car alive and well, and does not end up right against Derek’s chest.  A chest that is unfairly warm for their cold weather.  Stiles squeaked and quickly stumbled backwards into his dad.

“Well, that was fun.  How about we do that never again?  Good?  Great! Now let’s get the tow truck over here and go home, Dad.”

“Not so fast, Stiles.  I’ll take care of the car.  Derek, can you take him to the ambulance?” Stiles made a wounded noise, but it was ignored.  “It’s also on the side of the road.”

Derek nodded and looked like he was about to put his arm around Stiles, but he stopped, awkwardly his arm stretched out in space. He dropped is arm suddenly and shrugged.

“C’mon.” Derek headed out towards the road.

His dadpushed Stiles towards Derek.

“Traitor,” he hissed at his dad, but ends up following Derek anyways.

* * *

 

Two hours later, Stiles was finally at home and warm in bed.  Derek had taken him to the ambulance and stuck around as the EMTs checked Stiles out. Although, in Stiles’ opinion, the whole thing was a waste of time, he was glad for the blanket they had given him and the heat rolling out of the ambulance.

 He spent the time moaning about the jeep being out of commission to Derek as the EMTs examined and cared for the scratch on Stiles head.  Luckily, no hospital was needed for Stiles and after some lecturing, business and lots of paperwork, Stiles was sent on his merry way.

Finally home, Stiles buried himself under blankets; he just wanted to go to sleep and forget the night entirely. But before he fell asleep, he dimly remembered his phone that he had saved from the crash, and went to plug it in.  As he screen lit up, he saw that he had about thirty text messages.  They were all from Mr. Grumpy freaking out.  Stiles frowned as he scrolled up his texts. What the hell did he send to make him freak out so much?  _Oh_ , Stiles thought as he stared at his “I think I may have a stalker” text.  He quickly replied.

Stiles  
 **Sorry, man! I’m totally fine. Just lost track of my phone for a few hours.**

Mr. Grumpy texted back almost immediately. 

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Are you sure you’re okay?  
** **How did you lose your phone for a few hours, exactly?**

Stiles broke out his first smile of the night Mr. Grumpy’s concern.

Stiles  
 **Lost it in the car.  It’s a bit of a wreck right now.**

Stiles snorted at his own pun. He didn’t want to tell Mr. Grumpy about the crash and get him even more freaked out then he already was. There was just no need.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Thank god. Between your texts and the accidents on the side of the road, it’s been a long night.  It’s like they don’t know what cold is here.**

Stiles  
 **We don’t. We refuse to acknowledge it. We just ignore the problem until it goes away.  And refuse to learn how to drive with it.  The winter months don’t actually exist or ever happen.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **And the stalker?**

Stiles groaned into his pillow thinking of Derek. He really didn’t want to think of Derek. He saw the man freaking everywhere. And he ended up at the accident. Was that really just some crazy coincidence?  And he had been borderline nice.  But maybe that was all part of the stalker-y plan and charm? 

Stiles  
 **I don’t know, dude.   I just might be paranoid.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **But. . .**

Stiles  
 **But he’s freaking everywhere!  And we might have had some beef between us and he lied to me earlier, and I just don’t know.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **You’re dad’s a cop, right?  Can’t you get his opinion?**

Stiles  
 **That was my plan tonight, but I got distracted.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Please do. I don’t want you to get hurt.**

Stiles grinned goofily into his pillow and tried to ignore the swooping feeling in his stomach.

Stiles  
 **Awwww. You’re such a softy. I bet you’re just a big old teddy bear aren’t you?  One that gives the bestest hugs.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve been called a bear.**

Stiles stared at his phone with his wide eyes unblinking.  Did he just? It wasn’t like they didn’t flirt 50% of the time, but describing himself as bear made Stiles think of Derek with his dark stubble and dark arm hair coiled around his muscles. Hair that probably continued all the way down. . . 

Stiles  
 **One that gives the bestest hugs?**

God, he wanted so bad to toe that line with Mr. Grumpy, but instead he had completely chickened out. 

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Maybe one day you’ll have to figure that out yourself.**

Stiles tried to breathe slowly as all the nerves hit him at once. Fuck, it was just like he was asking to meet again, but without being so direct.  As much as Stiles really fucking wanted to meet his texting buddy that he might have been falling for, he was also scared as hell. All he could think of was all the ways that it could go wrong.  Plus, with all the drama around the store right now, he really didn’t want to bring another drama into his life.  But, maybe one day. . .

Stiles  
 **Maybe**

Stiles fell asleep clutching his phone an hour later after trading insults and flirting with Mr. Grumpy.


	5. Chapter 5

Hale’s Wolftastic Books in Beacon Hills opened on March 3rd, and the Hales went all out for the occasion.  The entirety of the Hale clan and the Headquarter employees had shown up in Beacon Hills for the opening, and then some, like Boyd’s girlfriend Erica and most of Beacon Hills.  Derek had known this was going to happen due to the fact that Laura’s wedding was in T minus four days, but it didn’t make the ungodly amount of people popping up in Beacon Hills any easier.

The real problem was that besides William, Derek and Laura’s father, no one knew of the revolutionary changes that they had made to the store.  Derek was worried about his mother blowing a gasket when she found out.  Derek was counting on the success of the store to cushion the blow before she found out.  Luckily, neither his mother nor any of the other Hales expressed any interest in seeing the store before it opened.  Something about ruining the magic of a grand opening.  

Laura, Derek, and Boyd were all dressed in their professional best at just before nine on Saturday morning, standing outside the doors of Hale’s Wolfastic Books.  The rest of the Hales were smushed along the front of the building, trying to be the ones in charge of the opening ceremony and be attendees at the same time.  Laura had resorted to using Derek and Boyd as bodyguards to force their family to stop hovering.

Thankfully, Derek had managed to veto Uncle Peter’s suggestion of having a red ribbon cutting ceremony. Derek couldn’t imagine it going over well in the town.  It would just point out how much grandeur the shop was imploding on the town.

Derek did agree to have a large banner printed. It was nothing fancy; the words GRAND OPENING were displayed in big, bold, red letters underneath the store’s name.  There were a few bunches of balloons here and there to show that opening of the store was important to them, but it didn’t really seem all that necessary. The entire town had been eagerly waiting for the store to open – either in anticipation for the store to succeed or to fail.

At three minutes to ten, Laura began her opening speech.  Laura had argued that even though Derek was in charge of the branch now, it had been her baby in the beginning, and she had more of right to do the welcoming speech. It was a right that Derek gladly bequeathed to her.  He had no desire to speak in front of a large group of people who were most likely criticizing every word that he said.

As Laura spoke, saying things like how glad they were to be here, how much they had fallen in love with the town and how they were eager to join their community, Derek surveyed the crowd.  Every time he saw a head of messy brown hair in the corner of his eyes, thinking that it belonged to a certain bookstore owner, his heart would lurch in his chest.  Derek reprimanded himself.  There was no reason to be excited to see Stiles.  Just because he was an attractive face didn’t mean anything.  It’s not like they had any chemistry or anything or that he even liked Stiles as a person, Derek reminded himself.

Even though Derek knew that he had fucked upon their first and second meeting, it was obvious that it really was Stiles that was an asshole and his charm with children was really just a façade. Derek had tried to apologize for everything after Stiles’ car crashed by taking care of the ambulance fee. He remembered the anger on Stiles’ face before he even realized who Derek was when the ambulance came up. Derek thought taking care of it wouldn’t make things perfect, but maybe put them at a better level. After all, Derek thought, after he had helped Stiles out of his jeep things were almost on the better part of civil between them.   Sarcasm and whining was heavily used that night, but none of it was directed at Derek.

However, taking care of the fee didn’t mend any bridges, but just made the matters worse.  Stiles was more hostile and angry with Derek than ever.  Instead of ignoring Derek when they would randomly run into each other in town, Derek was greeted with narrowed eyes, a tight-lipped frown and jerky movements anytime they were in the same vicinity. It took all of Derek’s resistance not to glare back with a bitch face.  It was all for naught, however, when Boyd told Derek he was still shooting his bitch face at the Stilinski guy, it just wasn’t his full grown "I’m going to rip your throat out with my teeth" bitch face.  Derek was starting to wish that Stiles would go back to ignoring him, like he had previously done. The town’s people either took to disapproving looks when they looked at Derek or patted his back sympathy, depending on their own personal standing with Stiles.

After the ninth heart-lurch, Derek realized that Stiles didn’t seem to be in attendance, and Derek squashed down any feeling of disappointment.  Derek did see a petite, fiery, redhead he had seen multiple times, either with Stiles or in the bookshop.  He was pretty sure they had been introduced at one point, but he couldn’t remember her name for the life of him.  So, Stiles wasn’t man enough to do his own spying, but sent his minions instead.  Although Derek could’ve easily dismissed the redhead as a ditzy fashionista in her expensive-looking clothes and high heels, there was a certain calculating look on her face that had Derek a bit worried.

Laura made a grandiose gesture to unlock the front door, and Derek took his cue to swing one of the doors open while Laura grabbed the other one.  They held the doors open while the hordes of people swarmed into the building. 

“I can’t wait to see everything. I’m so proud of both of you.” Talia kissed Laura and Derek on the cheek.  “And you too, Boyd,” she added as she granted him a kiss on the cheek as well before she headed inside.

“Here we go,” Derek muttered as he followed the rest of his family inside.  He debated sticking close to his father incase his mother losesher temper at the changes made to the store or to just disappear into the crowd and ignore his family.  Maybe he’d even miss the huge blowout, he thought hopefully.  He spotted Stiles’ redheaded friend in line for the café, and it makes the decision for him.  If A Fox’s Tale was going to spy on them, then he was only going to return the favor.

Derek followed her as she went about the store with her phone out in her hand the entire time.  Derek didn’t think she took any pictures, but she typed ferociously on the phone like she was taking notes for a Harvard Law class.  Of course, that’s probably exactly what she was doing. She looked in every nook and cranny of the store, but paid special attention to certain sections.

She stood at the counter of the café for five minutes, asking about a million questions about their products. She completely flustered their brand new employees, who were already nervous enough on their first day.  Eventually, she placed her order and paid.  When they called her out for her chai tea latte and vanilla scone, Derek learned that her name was Lydia.

She proceeded to spend about thirty minutes at the gallery wall that featured local artists’ work and description plates, and another ten minutes looking at the little nook where random historical facts about the store were displayed.  And then she went into the children’s section.

This could get interesting, Derek thought, as he followed her in and observing the other customers in the section.  There were a bunch of kids around a train set in the corner who had big smiles on their faces as they crashed the train’s cars into things. The parents were all standing around, not looking too interested in anything but just gossiping with one another.             

That was where Derek was found out by Cora.

“C’mon, boss-man.  Mom’s not happy.” Cora grabbed him by the arm and literally dragged him over to the back of the store, where Derek could see his mom, dad, Laura, Boyd, and Peter all gathered.  And Talia looked furious.  Her eyes were flashing dangerously and she looked like she was clenching her mouth shut so she wouldn’t explode at them.  She was impatiently tapping her heel against the tile floor as she waited for Cora and Derek to arrive in the area.

Cora pulled Derek right between Laura and Boyd and then backed up until she was almost behind Peter.  Smart girl, Derek thought, getting out of the murder zone and as far away as possible.  Derek glanced up at his mom and quickly looked away.  She was seething, and he wasn’t even going to attempt to play innocent.

“Would you like to explain to me why this store doesn’t follow the standard set up?  Or better yet, why don’t you explain to me why the set up wasn’t approved?” Talia started, her voice low and biting. 

Derek winced and forced himself not to hide behind Laura.  Calm mom was always much worse than yelling mom that took less than five minutes to blow over.

Laura held her head up high and crossed her arms defiantly.  “It was, actually.”

Talia’s eyebrows rose.  “Excuse me?  I did not approve any of this.  The new technology being used, the new colors and decorations or the expansion of the children’s center and local influences.  None of it was run by me.”

His dad cleared his throat.  “You didn’t, but I did.”

“What?”  Talia barked out, looking at her husband in shock.  “And you didn’t tell me?”

Peter snorted. “If we had-“

Cora elbowed him in the stomach after a warning look from Dad.  Their dad smiled at her and turned back to Talia.

“It was something that Laura wanted to do. It was going to be her big project.” Talia opened her mouth to say something, but he kept talking and got even louder.  “And, if you had found out, you would never have let it alone.  It wouldn’t have been her project, but yours.   I’m sorry we kept it from you, but the rest of the board approved the plans and the money allocations. Now, I hope you can forget your anger and be proud on such a wonderful job that your daughter and son did on the store. And Boyd, of course,” William finished pointedly.

Talia narrowed her eyes.  “We,” she said gesturing between her and her husband, “have not finished this conservation.”  She then turned to Laura, Derek, and Boyd.  “And that was a gutsy move to play, Laura.  You managed to pull off the first third, let’s hope the other two parts continue to work in you favor.  I don’t blame you two. The store does look very nice, and I do understand most of the changes.  However, because this store is basically being used as an experiment, we’re going to have to change our long-term game plan, which we’ll talk about after the wedding.”

“But I won’t be here!” Laura protested.

Talia shrugged.  “That’s not my fault.  If I had been properly informed, this would have already been scheduled out correctly.  But it was not, and we can’t wait too much longer after your wedding, and I do not relish worrying about the details before your wedding.”

“Fine, but I hope you remember that Derek is going to be watching Max and Jenny while Sean and I are gone. So, you might have more complications than you might think.”

Talia smiled toothily to her daughter. “Laura, your entire family is going to be in town.  I think we can manage to take care of two kids between all of us.  We managed to raise you three, didn’t we?”

Laura huffed and left, probably going off to find Sean, Jenny, and Max and complain to her almost-husband about her mom.  Talia looked up to the ceiling like she asking for help before addressing the rest of the family. “I’ll send out an email sometime this week with more information and calling for a meeting. Derek, at the end of the day, if you could show me to your office and show me the information we have on this branch and then email me the rest of the necessary information, I would really appreciate that."

The rest of the family quickly scattered at the dismissal, and Derek headed back to the children’s section, wondering if Lydia would still be there.

* * *

 She was.  Derek continued to watch her the next few _hours_ in the children’s section.  She talked to some of the children and their parents that are in the vicinity. A lot of the parents looked nervous that she caught them there.  They were probably all aware of Lydia’s association with A Fox’s Tale. All the conversations went politely enough, and the parents looked more at ease by the end, so Derek assumed that Lydia didn’t threaten them or scare them off. Derek watched as she sat in every single one of the little chairs that they had and tinkered with the toy train station they had set up. She looked at every bookshelf, and Derek swore she made a list of every single book that they offered. She went up to every worker in the vicinity and talked to him or her to the point where they all got uncomfortable enough to get the manager of the children’s section. Eventually the Kacey, the head manger, pulled Lydia aside. 

Derek shifted uncomfortably from his hiding spot, uncertain if he should interfere.  He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Lydia didn’t look like she was backing down. If anything, it was the opposite. Lydia’s already impeciable posture appeared to straighten even further, making her short 5 foot something frame look closer to 6 foot.  It didn’t take long before Kacey scowled and returned the checkout counter, leaving Lydia looking too smug for Derek’s well-being.

Lydia spoke to three more managers that fell back on Kacey. After the third time, Kacey caught Derek’s eye and headed straight towards him.

Derek immediately straightened up and tried to look professional and not like he had been snooping for the past hour.

“I would like your approval for security to escort Ms. Martin out of the store,” Kacey ground out.

Derek raised an eyebrow and looked over at Lydia. “I don’t think we have sufficient grounds for that.  She isn’t doing any harm.”

Kacey’s mouth dropped open.  “Any harm?!  She’s been _badgering_ your employees and making them uncomfortable.  And who knows what she’s been saying to the customers.  She’s going to make a spectacle! 

“No, she’s not.  She’s too good for that,” Derek said on a hunch.  “Especially, if you do it for her.”  He looked at Kacey pointedly.  Her body was tense and she was struggling to keep her voice down. “The customers know her, and tell the team not be alarmed.  It’s not a test, but they might even learn something.  Just let her do her thing.  It’s not going to harm anyone.”

Kacey huffed and stomped back to her desk, keeping an evil eye on Lydia.  There were four more confrontations before Lydia finally moved on.

Derek was never really attempting to be stealthy or anything, but he didn’t think that it was completely and blatantly obvious that he was watching her either.  He had chatted with the customers and employees alike around the store and made his own notes of things about what people were drawn to and how they moved around the store.  He wanted to fix a couple of display tables here and there based on his observations.  So, he wasn’t really expecting Lydia to march up to him right before she left.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, but stalking me across the store isn’t going to help your case.”

Derek had opened up his mouth to argue. Why did Stiles and his friends think he was stalking them all the time?  Of course, he then realized he had purposely followed her around the store for the almost four-hour visit.

“I was just observing the process of a customer. Not necessarily stalking,” he feebly replied.

Lydia rolled her eyes.  “Right.  Just don’t make a habit of it or I will go to the Sheriff about this.  He might not always trust Stiles' judgment on the topic, and I might not either, but he will listen to me.”

This being brought up as official police business was not what Derek wanted.

“I’ve _never_ meant to stalk Stiles.  It’s a small town. I could argue just as much that he’s stalking me." 

Lydia reviewed him quietly.  “Let’s say I believe you.  If you pull this on me again, especially elsewhere, any belief will quickly disappear.”  She paused and her gaze swept around the store one more time.  “You have interesting store here, Mr. Hale. And very interesting employees.” She shot him a smug, fake smile and left the building.

The shot at interesting employees and the fake smile didn’t make Derek shiver.  Not even a little bit.    

* * *

 

Derek continued to observe and make small talk for most of the day until Talia found him at the café getting a turkey, apple and brie panini to satisfy his hunger.

“Careful, you don’t want to get addicted to those. The next thing you know, you’ll be buying all your meals at the café,” a soft voice said behind Derek.

Derek turned around, refusing to feel guilty. “I’m hungry and haven’t eaten since before we opened.”

“The smart thing to do would to have brought something from home.  A meal or a snack,” Talia lectured her son.

“I normally do,” Derek said petulantly and took a large bite of his sandwich.

Amusement danced in Talia’s eyes and her mouth curved upwards.

“I know you do,” she said.  “You’ve always been responsible.”   She squeezed his shoulder in affection quickly before heading over to the counter and getting a large coffee.

Derek chewed thoughtfully behind her. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take that.  In normal families, that would probably mean a good thing.  But, his family was always worried that he didn’t have enough fun. He was no more a workaholic than anyone else in his family, but he never went through a wild and crazy phase like Laura had or a rebellious phase like Cora.

“Now,” Talia said, turning around with her large coffee in hand. “Why don’t you show me this office of yours, and I can get a little bit of work done.”

And of course, Derek obliged. 

* * *

 

An hour later, Talia had made copies of all the necessary paperwork and had emailed herself what Derek felt was the entirety of the paperwork on his computer.

“Thank you, Derek,” Talia said, as she walked over to the door. “I’m not happy that I was kept out of the loop with this, but the store does look lovely.”  She smiled at him.“And don’t tell Laura this, but she was right.  It is time to update the stores and we really should look at being more environmentally conscious.  The increase in local influence was a really nice touch for this particular store. You two did do a great job with this store."

Derek flushed under his mom’s praise. “Thanks, Mom.”

She nodded and left.  She returned to the door entry only moments later. “You do know that we’ll probably have to keep you around here for awhile, to monitor everything, right.”

Derek was surprised to find himself disappointed. He had been looking at a couple of editing positions.  Maybe he was more ready to leave his job than he realized.  Instead of voicing those thoughts, Derek focused on what he did like. “Yeah, I know.  And. . . I think I’m okay with that.  Bailey and I like it here.”

Talia looked at him critically. “I think Boyd does too. You know, when I left, I was so eager to see some place new.  I was so young.  I had forgotten how great of town it really is.”

“You talk about it all the time. Especially how it influenced the opening of the store.”

“Maybe, but it took until I had you three to realize it.  It really was a great place to grow up.  The city isn’t bad, but I wish you had a little more freedom than you did.”

“We probably would’ve ended up all working the family business even if we all stayed here.”

“Perhaps.  I’ll see you tonight.  We’re having a little celebration party at the hotel.”

Derek winced.  He had conveniently forgotten about that.  Maybe he could swing by for half an hour, say hello to everyone and leave. It had been a long day and a party with lots of people, even ones he knew, didn’t sound appealing.

“Of course, Mom **.”**

“You’ll be there,” Talia said.  It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Derek promised and any thoughts of leaving early disappeared.  It wasn’t going to be allowed to happen.

Derek sighed heavily as his mom finally left the office and slumped down into his desk chair.   He was surprised that she had taken everything so well, although his dad was probably going to have to do some groveling for the next few days. But, by the time the wedding rolled around, Derek knew that everything would be forgotten or forgiven.

Derek wasn’t looking forward to the post-wedding period.  He wasn’t lying when he told his mom that he had no problem staying in Beacon Hills. He got to play with his dog every day, and enjoy nature.  The town didn’t end up all knowing where everyone was in everyone’s business as he thought it would.  It had a small town feel, but the population was large enough that not everyone knew everyone. He had even made a couple of friends, more or less.  There’s Scarf Man that Derek talks to at the coffee shop every morning (their coffee is so much better than the stuff they serve at store’s café) and then there was Braeden, the surprisingly strong black-haired girl at the gym who had turned into his workout partner.  They spotted each other and everything.  

There were a couple things that he was not the biggest fan of, like having to deal with Stiles and his close connections.  Lydia’s one thing, but there’s a number people around town that are very hostile to him, and Derek can’t help but feel it is due to Stiles’ influence.  When Derek had taken Bailey to the vet for a checkup, the vet’s assistant had gone from the most genuine smile ever in front of the animals to looking like he was going to start giving Derek death threats.

Soon, Derek hoped, the rivalry would come to some happy conclusion of sorts.  One that didn't end with Hale's or A Fox’s Tale closing and people would being so biased against him.

No, what Derek was really not looking forward to was his mother joining in on his project. Judging by the all the facts she just gathered, she was going to do a complete theoretical overhaul of the entire project.  Derek groaned and kneaded his hands against his eyelids.

As Derek sat there trying to gather the energy to go back outside and deal with the crowds of people, his phone buzzed.

Smartass  
 **Today’s fucking stressful.  Why’s today fucking stressful?  Is your day fucking stressful?**

Derek let out a dry laugh.

Derek  
 **You have no idea.**

Smartass  
 **Wanna bet your fine ass, I don’t?  Fucking work and fucking competitor companies.**

Derek  
 **We just opened a new branch today.  We might have kept things from my mom.  Who’s basically the CEO.   It was just one big surprise.**

Smartass  
 **Oh God. How are you still alive?**

Derek  
 **My dad and sister took the blame.**

Smartass  
 **Smooth.  
** **Feeling a little guilty aren’t you?**

Derek snorted and leaned back in his chair. He could finally feel himself relaxing and the tension leak out of his shoulders as he bickered with Smartass. 

Derek  
 **Oh, god no.  
** **It was their ideas and all their damn fault.**

Smartass  
 **So stressful situation over.  Mine's a permanent ongoing crisis.   I win.**

Derek  
 **It’s not a competition, idiot.**

Smartass  
 **Wanna bet?**

Derek  
 **Fine, I raise you this.  STILL having to transition the brand new branch that just opened.  
** **Plus, my mother’s going to be swooping into the scene wanting to rehash everything that I’ve spent the past year doing and my sister has spent the last two.**     
 **Plus, weddings.  
** **Plus, almost permanently babysitting.**

Smartass  
 **Almost permanently isn’t permanently at all.  The last point's invalid.**

Derek  
 **That’s all you have to say in response to that?  
** **Just admit it. I win.**

Smartass  
 **Fuck you.**

Derek rolled his eyes fondly at the screen of his cellphone, and typed out the next phrase without thinking it all the way through. 

Derek  
 **Love you too.**

Derek felt his throat start to close up at the text he just sent.  He hadn’t meant _that._  Not then. Not truly.  It was just supposed to be a rebuke.  A rebuke he would pull with his sisters all time. Sometimes even with Boyd. Except, it was true. It was something that Derek had come to terms with in the past few months.  He was fully and truly in love with Smartass and he didn’t even know his real name.  It was true and Derek didn’t know how to deal with those words going to Smartass.  Or the response. 

Luckily, Derek didn’t have to wait too long in unknowing agony.  Smartass texted back less than a minute later, although perhaps forty-five seconds longer than usual.

Smartass  
 **Aw, boo. You know I do.**

Derek choked as he tried to inhale. How the fuck was he supposed to take that?  Deciding that he really didn’t want to risk Smartass giving him a heart attack for the day, he texted Smartass to get back to work and then took his own advice. The only thing Derek knew for certain from that last text was that he was not going to be called "boo." It wasn’t happening. 

* * *

 It had finally happened.  Hale's Wolftastic Books had opened. To Stiles’ surprise, the world didn’t end.  Beacon Hills didn’t end up as a hellhole or anything else.  What did happen was that there was not a single person that visited A Fox’s Tale that day.  Well, practically no one.   Actually, everyone Stiles knew stopped by the store that day to check up on him. The sheriff came by and took Stiles out to lunch.  The McCalls showed up with never-ending optimism. Allison and Kira came and hassled Stiles and Isaac while they worked.  Lydia showed up mid-afternoon asking if he’d gone over to new store (an obvious no was the answer) and if he was planning to (also no).  She then informed him that it was a very smart strategy, and Stiles shrugged and told her that’s what he had her for (that was slightly a lie. She was better at figuring out the facts and numbers.  Lydia tended to define the problems, while Stiles would solve them by putting everything together).

Okay, so there were people in A Fox’s Tale that day. There just weren’t a lot of customers. There were seven people that entered the store that at least looked like they might have an intention of buying something. And, to Stiles’ horror, four of them were Hales (or at least honorary Hales).  Not long after Lydia’s visit, Laura, Sean, Jenny, and Max entered the store. 

See, because of the first time Derek took Jenny and Max to Story Time almost a year ago, Stiles was very aware of who Jenny and Max were.  He noticed them every time they came into the store, which led to conversations between him and the little ones.  He knew more about the two little honorary Hales than he did about most of his costumers. They had taken to talking to him directly after Story Time, before Stiles was able to get behind the cash register and look like was working again.

Stiles knew that Jenny’s favorite color was green and that she was really sad that flower girl dress for the wedding wasn’t green. Stiles also knew that she was the flower girl for her parent’s wedding.  He knew that the wedding colors were red and brown because Jenny did like the red polka dots on her brown dress.  Stiles knew that Laura had managed to pacify the young girl by promising her a green Easter dress, which Jenny had insisted on wearing to A Fox’s Tale on Easter Sunday after the town’s egg hunt.

Stiles knew that Max had developed a love of dogs in the past year, and that Laura and Sean had told him that if he could take care of a guinea pig, that they’ll think about getting a dog. Stiles also knew that the guinea pig Max had right now really belonged to a friend of Sean’s and that Laura had a dog back in New York that she planned on moving to Beacon Hills after the wedding. She had not-so-subtly (for Stiles, probably very subtly for Max) picked out more and more dog books for Max as they got closer to the wedding.  Stiles thought that she was more excited for her dog to arrive than Max would be if he knew.

So, Stiles had gotten to know Laura Hale and her family.  It was never his intention, but he could never seem to get away from the little munchkins as they chattered away at him. It always seemed to amaze Scott that Stiles got along with children as well as he did, figuring he would be too irritated with them.

Stiles wasn’t sure how he got along with kids as well as he did, but he didn’t even have to try when it came to Jenny and Max. Jenny might be a little spoiled and Max was sometimes overwhelmed by things, but they were both happy kids ninety percent of the time that just wanted to tell Stiles all the good things in their lives.  Stiles could always use more good things in his life.

On the day that Hale’s Wolftastic Books opened, Jenny and Max came barreling into the store shouting Stiles' name. 

Stiles had looked up and smiled broadly. He immediately squatted down give them hugs as they ran into his arms. 

“Stiles, Stiles!” Jenny cried immediately. “Hale’s Wolftastic Books opened today!”

Stiles groaned internally, and tried to keep his smile plastered on his face.  “I heard.”

“It’s huuuuuge,” Max said, spreading his arms to indicate how big it was. 

“Yeah!” Jenny jumped in.  “It could fit like ten of your stores in it! How cool is that! And there’s even like adult stuff from mom and dad.”

“And it’s Mom’s and Uncle Derek’s!” Max added proudly.

Stiles wanted to cry, because how as this his life. Max was too cute being proud of his family like that. 

“Have you seen it yet, Stiles?” Jenny asked.

“Uh, no.  I haven’t.”

Max’s face dropped.  “Why not?”

Oh, god.  Stiles did not want Max to cry.  Jenny didn’t seem to notice Max’s change in mood.

“You’ve got to come!  You’d love it!  It has lots and lots of books!”

“I’m sure it has a ton of fantastic books,” Stiles said honestly before he looked down to Max.  “But, I have been working here _all day_ , and Hale’s just opened.  I haven’t had chance to go over there.”

“We should go now,” Max said and started to pull Stiles’ sleeve.

“Woah, there buddy,” Sean interrupted and pulled Max away from Stiles.  “Stiles is working, remember. He  won’t be able to go till later.”  Sean shot Stiles an apologetic look over Max’s head. Stiles gave a half smile in return.

Before Max could argue anymore, Laura grabbed three books on the closet shelf and shoved them in his face.  “What do you think about these, Max?  Doesn’t the purple elephant look cool?”

Max reluctantly nodded. 

“I want to see!” Jenny demanded, and the kids attention was diverted from Hale’s to the books. 

Sean bought four new books and apologized to Stiles as they left the store.  Stiles hated that were pity buys.

They were the only ones that bought anything that day. 

When Stiles, Lydia and Natalie went over the finances at the end of the week, the store’s numbers were a little low, but not significantly.  It was a good day, in Stiles' opinion. A little low, but it wasn’t the end of the world.  They could overcome Hale's Wolftastic Books. 

* * *

 

Despite the stressful beginning due to the combination of too many people trying to take charge and everyone running late, the Murphy wedding went off without a hitch, and Derek enjoyed every bit of it. He got to spend the entire night with his family, most of whom he hadn’t seen in over a year when he was in New York. He loved playing with Jenny and Max, who both looked adorable in the wedding party outfits. He was happy that Laura was happy and had found a family that loved her.  Despite what Peter said, Derek _did not_ cry.

Cora, Boyd, Erica, and Derek all got super wasted at the reception, which, of course, ended up with Derek grinning dopily at his phone while he texted Smartass.

Derek  
 **this partyy is grat  
** **want u here**

Smartass  
 **Hey, big guy. Taking advantage of some alcohol tonight?**

Derek  
 **yea all the toasts and bubbly  
** **ud like the bubbly  
** **bubbly feels good**

Smartass  
 **I bet it does**

Derek

**why arent u here**

Smartass  
 **You didn’t invite me**

Derek  
 **that was dumb shouldve done that  
** **we could be dancing**

Derek’s eyes glazed over as he imagined Smartass, who looked remarkably like Stiles, rolling his hips on the dance floor. He imagined dancing with him, pressed tight against his back.  Derek licked his lips.

“Derek!” Erica cried as she ran over from the dance floor.  She collapsed on his shoulders and looked down at his phone.

It jerked Derek from his thoughts and his lust driven mind.  “Smartass,” He explained as he held up the phone.

“Ooooh.  The boooooy,” Erica grabbed the phone.  “Boyd said things.”  She squinted her eyes as she read it.  She pouted. “No sexting?”

Derek snatched the phone back. “No.”

Cora laughed as she came back to their table. “Derek’s to much of a prude to do sexting.”

“Am not!”

Cora spun and fell into the nearest chair. She raised a finger and pointed it and Derek.  “Prove it.”

“Fine!” Derek grabbed his phone and was about to start typing when his phone was stolen, _again_.

Derek glared up at Boyd who was holding his phone. “You are _not_ sexting at the table.  I don’t wanna hear that.  Or see it.”

Cora’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Me neither.  No sexting for you!”

Erica grinned wickedly as she turned to her boyfriend. “Aw, man.  That would’ve been fuuuun.”  She even wiggled her eyebrows before she burst into laughter.

Boyd dropped Derek’s phone on the table and dragged his girlfriend back to the dance floor.  “I’ll show you fun.”

Derek’s attention immediately went back to his phone. He wondered if Smartass had texted him back yet.

Smartass  
 **You’re a dancer, uh?**

Derek  
 **no but id dance with you**  

“Oh my god, you’re such a dork,” Cora declared.   “We should do shots!”

Derek allowed himself to be pulled back to the bar.

“To Laura!” Cora shouted as they picked up their shots of Tito’s.

Things started to get fuzzy after that.

The night ended with Talia taking Jenny and Max with her to the hotel instead of going home with Derek like they were supposed to, and William piled all four drunk young adults into his car; in which, he drove them all to Derek and Boyd’s apartment where they all crashed on the floor of the den.

Derek’s mom loved to torture her children and point fun at their mistakes.  She had a different family member call each of their cell phones the next morning. At six am.  Apparently, when William dropped them off, he got his hands on all their phones, turned the volume to loud and made sure the ringer was as shrill as possible.  Talia demanded that they all meet them back at the hotel in an hour for brunch. The four of them arrived in sweats and sunglasses.  Talia only smiled and then set the kids on them.

Derek loved Jenny and Max, he really did, but he hadn’t been equipped to handle their high-pitched voices and their energy when he was still practically drunk from the night before.  He thought that Cora and Erica were going to strangle them before brunch was over, but it was Peter, surprisingly, that paid interference. Derek was pretty sure he had some sort of plan.  Derek would’ve been more worried if he wasn’t using all of his concentration to stand up straight.

At the end of brunch, Talia casually reminded them that she would be sending out a work email later, and they would have a lot to work out.  William told Derek that he was supposed to take Jenny and Max back to their hose and watch them for the following week **.**

It was going to be a long week, Derek could tell.

* * *

 Derek and Boyd collapsed on their couch.

“Well,” Derek said still trying to process everything.

Boyd grunted in return.

They had just gotten back from their work meeting. The six-hour work meeting.

“Laura’s going to have a heart attack when she gets back,” Derek finally said.

Boyd closed his eyes and let out a low groan. “Oh my god.”

“Maybe we can just lock her and Mom in a room for like twelve hours when she gets back and the rest of us won’t have to deal with her until after she calms down.”

“I think you’d need more than twelve hours before Laura would start to calm down.”

“Yeah, probably,” Derek agrees. They fell silent again.  Probably trying to convince themselves that the past six hours was real.

The beginning of the meeting went exactly like Derek thought it would.  Talia criticized all the choices that were made for the store, but in the end would only recommend a couple of changes.  However, nothing was going to be implemented until they saw how the store functioned with its customers in Beacon Hills.  Talia wanted Derek to stay in Beacon Hills to oversee its process and determine what worked and what still needed to be changed.  She put Derek and Boyd in charge of creating the new standard model for the stores, which she wanted to be finalized in six months.  Cora was going to start looking at the process of overhauling all their open branches for the upgrade.  Laura had never really verbalized when she was coming back to full-time. She had been working part-time throughout the past year to help Derek and Boyd out, but she never had given Talia a return date.  So, Talia didn’t give her a project to work on.  Nor was she put on Derek and Boyd’s joint project.  Derek was pretty sure there was going to be hell to pay for that when Laura got back.  She pretty much thought of the Beacon Hills branch as her baby.

But, besides Laura being left out of things, everything went more or less how Derek thought it would.  It took fucking forever but it was predictable. No, the shocking part all happened in the last fifteen minutes of the meeting. Talia announced that Hale's Wolftastic Books would be moving its headquarters to Redding, or closer to Beacon Hills if she could swing it.

It was insane.  Party because it was going to cause chaos for all their employees, especially the ones in New York.  But mostly because who in their right mind would move the seat of power from New York to Redding (Peter told Talia that she was bat-shit crazy)? Not to mention Laura. Derek knew she loved her family, but she finally started her own family a couple thousand miles away where she could be her own person, and they basically followed her home.

Talia had explained that she had forgotten how much she missed Beacon Hills, and she thought everyone seemed happier here. Laura, Derek, and Boyd certainly liked it, she had said.  She thought it might not be the most obvious choice, but they could use the move as a way to really expand more on making the store more ecological and organic.

Beacon Hills hadn’t just become Laura’s own escape from her family, but it also Derek’s.  For a year, he lived without fully depending on other Hales. He still might have seen Laura and her family a lot, and Boyd was practically an honorary Hale, but Derek finally felt like he was living on his own.  No random family member just popped into his apartment or dragged him to one event to another and grilled him on what he had eaten for dinner. Derek loved his family. He truly did, but he enjoyed the independence that he had finally found in Beacon Hills.  He was scared that the entire Hale clan moving to California would ruin that.

“I think I’m going to start looking for my own apartment,” Boyd said slowly.

Derek blinked as he looked at Boyd. “What’s wrong with the apartment?”

Boyd raised an eyebrow.  “I’ve been moved to California.  Permanently.  I-“

Derek interrupted, “We’ve been moved to California permanently.  I thought we liked California?  And, Mom would probably send you back to New York after this project's over if you really wanted.”

Boyd sighed deeply.  “No, she’s not.  She’s already talking to me to set up another store in Sacramento and run that one. Permanently.  I do like California, but not everyone I know is moving here too.”

“You’re upset about leaving your parents? You barely see them even when you live in New York.”

“Not my parents, Derek.  Erica.”

“Oh,” Derek responded.  How could he have forgotten about Erica?  The blonde bombshell that had been around all week and prompting the drinking parties they’d been having every night. Hell, she was probably still asleep in the next room.

“I’m going to ask her to move in with me,” Boyd responded slowly, as if to make sure that Derek was comprehending.  “To move to California for me.”

“And you need an apartment for the both of you,” Derek said, finally getting it.

“Yeah, unless you want Erica and I to squeeze in here with you?”

Derek thought back to when Boyd and Erica would have Skype dates that would last for days.  He had taken to crashing on Laura’s couch during those – things had gotten too loud for comfort.  “Um, no. That’s okay.”

They lapsed back into silence. Derek was wondering if it was worth staying in the apartment without a roommate or if he should look for a smaller place himself. 

“If she says no,” Boyd started. “I might not move out. Might not be worth it.”

“She’ll say yes,” Derek promised.

Boyd shook his head.  “I’m asking her to leave her entire life behind. It’s a lot to ask.”

“Would you give this up for her, if she asked you to?”

Boyd was quiet, contemplating before he answered. “Probably.  You guys are like family to me, but.”  Boyd shrugged.  “I think I would at the end of a project.”

“Because you love her.”

“Yeah.”

“And she loves you.  I saw you two this week.  She’ll say yes.”

Derek looked over to Boyd, who was nodding.

“Alright,” Derek said, stretching as he got up. “How ‘bout a beer?”

* * *

 

Stiles and Scott were dicking around with the stuffed animals in the shop when an older woman walked in the shop. Stiles was using the fox to destroy the piles of books on one of the displays while Scott was trying to protect the display table with the wolf, when Stiles noticed her.  She wasn’t senior citizen old, but she looked slightly older than Natalie.  She had long dark hair and posture that commanded attention.  It was her eyes, however, that attracted Stiles’ attention. They seemed full of knowledge, and it seemed like she knew how to use it.

Stiles automatically dropped the fox and straightened up.

“Hi, welcome to A Fox’s Tale. Can I help you with anything?” Stiles chirped and knocked Scott on the back of the head, who smiled sheepishly and then started put the books back in order on the table.

“I would like to speak to your manager,” she said. It was stated simply. There was no anger or hard edge behind that request like there normally was.  It was just like a statement of the facts.

Stiles raised his eyebrows.  He didn’t recognize her, and it was possible that she could have been assisted by one of employees without him noticing, but it wasn’t something that happened very often.

“That’s me,” he replied, walking across the room to stand in front of her.   She looked him up and down, obvious judging him and it made Stiles want to squirm.  Instead, he tried to sum up every bit of professionalism he had (it wasn’t a lot.  He and Scott were playing and messing up _his_ displays mere seconds ago) and put on a smile and stuck out his hand. “I’m Stiles.  I own the Fox’s Tale and am the manager today. How can I help you?”

The woman had a small, almost secret smile on her face.  “Stiles,” she said, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Talia.”

With that she dropped his hand and started surveying the store.  Beacon Hills had some. . .interesting inhabitants.  There were some bizarre people living in the town, like Finstock, who yelled everything he said, or Eleanor the kooky cat lady, so Stiles was used to strange customers.

This, however, had Stiles baffled. He felt like he and the store were in a job interview or something.   He bit his lip in effort not to go off on a tangent that would fill the awkward silence and he grasped at the hem of his shirt with both hands in effort not to make huge gestures and knock anything off the shelves, which has happened before.  His fingers plucked the hem of his soft well-worn plaid shirt, and Stiles wished he had worn something that he hadn’t had since high school.  At least he wasn’t wearing one of those graphic tees underneath.  

Stiles draw in a deep breath and then followed the woman, _Talia_ , over to the Story Time section.  The floor cushions were a cluttered haphazardly and stacked up against one of the walls. Scott, thankfully, had repacked the Toy Chest, which had the contents thrown about the floor just minutes ago, and placed it against the wall as well.

Talia went up and got a close look at the Story Time with Stiles bulletin boards.  There were four of them.  There were two bulletin boards that featured books.  There was the book of the current week and then the book of the past week. They had pictures of the covers and other pages in the book, a description of the book, age estimation, and author information. Then there was a bulletin board with a schedule for Story Time with Stiles with a big colorful piece of paper with the date for the next event, a calendar, and then tidbits about the store on Sunday mornings, like the restaurant that’s coming and how it ties into the Farmer’s Market.

Talia seemed to gloss over the first three boards and stopped at the last one.  It had dozens of pictures of the kids enjoying the store.  There were pictures of the kids listening during Story Time, kids reading their own books, kids holding up stacks of books they wanted that were bigger than themselves, kids and parents stuffing their faces from the bakeries and generally looking like a happy mess, and many more.

Stiles eyebrows shot up and used every ounce of willpower not to say anything when Talia lightly swept her fingers over a picture of the Hales.

It featured all the Hales that he had met. Sean, Laura, Jenny, Max, _and_ Derek.  It was one of the few times that Derek had been dragged to the store after the first time. Sundays at A Fox’s Tale was always a bit of a reprieve of the hostilities between the Hales and Stiles. Derek didn’t try to talk to Stiles and Stiles didn’t spend his time glaring and holding a grudge at Derek. Stiles had found it too exhausting and complicated to maintain his dissatisfaction towards the man. They would avoid each other and keep to themselves, both attempting to enjoy the most out of the busy Sundays.

In the photo, Derek had a large stack of books in his arms that Jenny was adding to.  Max was holding _Clifford the Big Red Dog_ tight to his chest, and Sean and Laura were behind them eating Nutella and cinnamon crepes topped with powder sugar.  They both had powdered sugar all over their faces and were laughing at each other.  They all looked really happy and like a nice, genuine family; even Derek, when he looked adoringly at his niece and kept holding the pile after she stacked books after books.  Stiles wasn’t sure who took that picture or put it up, and Stiles desperately wanted to remove it. It made his chest ache a little every time he saw it, but he couldn’t actually find it in himself to remove it. It was a pretty good publicity photo, after all.

Finally, Talia turned around and faced Stiles.

“This place has changed a whole lot, since the last time I was here,” she informed him.

Stiles frowned.  The place hadn’t really changed for the past thirty years. Stiles did his best to keep it how it was when his mother was still alive.  “When was the last time you were here?” he asked.

“Oh, I haven’t been, since I was your age. Probably even before that, more like high school.”

“Oh! Yeah, no!” Stiles exclaimed understanding and in the process forgot all about staying professional.  He fell back right back into his normal speech pattern and used his hands to talk.

“My mom totally bought this place thirty years ago from Mr. Hendricks?  I think. She said the place was awful for a children’s store.  That it was like an antique bookshop filled with children’s books, which made no sense whatsoever. So, she made it someplace kids would actually want to be and enjoy.  Not some stuffy place where they would feel like they had to be quiet or break anything. So there’s, you know. Stuff.” Stiles explained gesturing to the 3-D Rainbow Fish that was hanging from the ceiling above their heads.

Talia freely smiled this time. “Yes, I believe that is an adequate description.  I was an avid bookworm as a child, and this was not a place you wanted to spend time in. Your mother did a wonderful job with the place.  I do love the decorations,” she said as she reached over and ran her hand over a real fur tail attached to the life-size painting of a Beast from _Where the Wild Things Are_.  “It fits this town, very much.  I could see myself enjoying it here when I was a child.” She turned away from the decorations and back to Stiles.  “So, was it your dream to take over the shop for you mother?  I’m surprised she relinquished ownership of the store so soon. She obviously did a wonderful job.”

Stiles’ smile fell from his face. In the corner of his eye, he could see Scott still from where he was at the cash register, knowing how hard of a subject it was for Stiles.  Stiles hadn’t had to explain this in a very long time.  Everyone in Beacon Hills knew that his mom had passed away. Someone else always filled in new people, like Isaac.  The last time he had to explain it properly was Mr. Grumpy, and that had been different. Personal.  It wasn’t some random lady assuming his mother was alive. “Uh.  Not exactly.  And by that I mean, not all.   She died when I was eight. So. . .”

Talia’s immediately soften.  “I’m so sorry.  That must have been really difficult for you.”  All Stiles could do was nod jerkily.  “I really would have liked to meet her.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles said awkwardly, thinking about all the people his mother would never get to meet.  She would never meet the angel that Kira was in the shop.  Or agree about how much of a douche Isaac was, not that she would ever call him that. She was never going to meet Mr. Grumpy, Stiles’ not-relationship relationship. She also wasn’t there to tell his dad that it was okay to move on.  That Melissa McCall was a lovely woman and that she just wanted him to be happy. 

It was impossible not to think about his mom. But those thoughts flooded over him. Stiles desperately blinked, trying to prevent any tears from running down his face.

“Now,” Stiles said shakily.  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

She gave him a sad smile like she could see right through him.  “I’m looking for _The True Story of the Three Little Pigs,_ ” she said softly.

Right then, Lydia came through the front door, her eyes becoming wide like saucers as she saw them.

“Of course.  Actually, Lydia,” he said pointedly, “will be happy to show you where _The True Story of the Three Little Pigs_.”

Lydia cocked her head at him and her face clearly said, I’m doing what now?

Stiles just looked back at her desperately. Lydia rolled her eyes in exasperation, but plastered on a smile and guided Talia over to the correct aisle.

Stiles quickly escaped to his office.

* * *

 

Stiles  
 **It’s just not fair.  
** **She should be here.  For me. For my dad.  
** **I just miss her so much.  
** **And now I might lose the only piece of her I have left.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I wish I could do or say something to help you, but nothing I can do will take that pain away.  
** **But you will never lose her.  
** **You will always have your memories.  And you know she loved you.**

Stiles  
 **It’s not the same.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **No it’s not.**

Stiles sniffed as he looked over the text conversation he’s been having with Mr. Grumpy, and wiped his sleeve-covered hand over his wet face.  In this moment, Stiles hated that the only way he can connect to Mr. Grumpy is through text. He yearned for an actual physical presence.  He wanted to be able to cry into Mr. Grumpy’s chest and seek comfort from his hug, but instead he has to resort to sitting alone in his office, feeling oh so cold.

Stiles was contemplating running across the street to get a hot chocolate and a warm pastry to make him feel better, when Lydia opened the door to his office and stood at the threshold with Scott looking in behind her.

“What the hell was that about?” Lydia asked.

Stiles wiped his eyes one more time. “Sorry, I just couldn’t,” he struggled out.

“Why are you apologizing?  I want to know what she did to you.”

Stiles looked at her blankly. “I’m apologizing because I made you deal with a customer and it’s not your job,” he explained slowly.  “And you hate when I act like you’re a sales associate.”

Stiles paused and then shook his head. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.  What do you mean, what did she do to me?”

“Stiles, I entered the store and you’re standing there talking to Talia Hale looking like you’re about to cry. You then flee, and I find you in here where you’ve been obviously crying.  What did that bitch do to you?  Did she make some jackass comment like Derek did?”  Lydia asked.

“That was Talia Hale?” both Scott and Stiles asked her.

“Obviously.”  She turned around to Scott.   “She paid with a credit card and you didn’t even notice the name?”

Scott only shrugged.

“That was Talia Hale?” Stiles asked again, dumbfounded.

“Yes!  Stiles,” Lydia said, coming into the room and stopping right in front of his chair.  Her voice no longer held any of the anger in it like it did when she was asking about the woman.  Talia _Hale_.  “What did she say to you?  I’m just. . .”

“Worried,” Scott supplied.  They were both looking at him with twin looks of concern.

“I’m fine.  Honest,” he said at Lydia’s scoff.  “She didn’t do anything.  It wasn’t like anything what Derek did.  She just asked about the store.  The last time she was here it was before Mom bought it, and she wanted to meet her.  And,” Stiles' voice cracked, “she can’t.”

“Oh, Stiles,” Lydia said softly.

“It just sucks.”

Scott came into the office and stood behind Stiles’ chair, bending down to squeeze him tight, his arms overlapping across Stiles’ chest.

“Love ya, bro,” Scott breathed into his ear.  Stiles choked out a sad little laugh and got up, pulling Scott into a real hug.  “Love you, too bro.”  Stiles responded.

They both looked over to Lydia and opened one side up, inviting Lydia to join their hug.  She rolled her eyes, but looked at them fondly before folding herself in between the two of them.

They closed shop up early for the day and all went out for hot drinks and warm pastries afterwards.  And when Stiles checked his phone later that day, he found a missed text.

****Mr. Grumpy  
 **I wish I could be there for you.**

Stiles looked at his friends, and knew he was lucky to have them and for them to give him the comfort that he needed, but he still texted back 

Stiles  
 **Me too.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the good news is that we're over halfway through - woohoo!
> 
> Bad news is I've moved things around so there's going to be at least eight chapters now. 
> 
> And for those that have been keeping track, I've been updating once a day. I'm updating tonight, but may or may not be able to update again tomorrow. There will be and update on Tuesday for sure. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoy the rest!

The Stilinskis and the McCalls were having dinner at the Stilinski’s house (normally a shared dinner would be at Melissa’s house, but her fridge was broken).  Melissa had brought her chive whipped potatoes.  Scott had bought some dinner rolls, and Stiles had bought frozen asparagus that he managed not to burn in the oven. The sheriff had grilled up some pork chops for the main course.  Melissa’s potatoes were always the highlight over the meal.

Melissa had just reprimanded Stiles for eating with his mouth open when the Sheriff asked Scott what he did today.

“I helped out at the shop,” Scott replied.

The sheriff’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.  “The shop as in the veterinary clinic?  I thought you had the weekend off.”

“No, the _shop_ shop. Stiles’ shop.”

“That was nice of you,” the sheriff said, sounding suspicious.  He turned his gaze to Stiles who was attempting to build a house with his asparagus. Some things never change.

“What?”  Stiles asked at his dad’s judging look.  He quickly toppled the beginnings of the house over with his fork. “What did I do?”

“How’s the store doing, son?”

Stiles shrugged.  “Not great, but Lydia said you can’t base anything off the first month because of the excitement of the new store.  We’re going to see how the next two weeks go once people fall back into their daily routines.”

“Bad enough that you had to call Scott in because you couldn’t afford to pay your employees?”

“Oh, Stiles.  It’s doing that poorly?”  Melissa said sympathetically.

“What? No!  That’s not it at all!”  Stiles turned and glared at Scott.  “You couldn’t have worded that better, dude?”

“All I said was that I helped out at the shop,” Scott defended.

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned back to the parents. “No one could work. It’s like final exams or something for Kira and the rest of the college students.  Isaac has the stomach flu, and Liam and Mason had a game. I was by myself in the store, and had told Scott, Lydia, and Allison that they could prove their worth as friends by stopping by the store to keep me company.”

The sheriff sighed. “And how did that turn into Scott helping out and not just playing with the stuffed animals?”

“I might have been too loud when he was trying to look over some paperwork.  He then gave me a nametag and told me work the cash register after that,” Scott said sheepishly.  

Melissa snorted into her wine glass.

“It didn’t last long,” Stiles muttered.

The parents shot him a questioning look.

“Having Scott at the register which is right in front of the office wasn’t much better,” Stiles explained.

“He joined me in playtimes after like five minutes.” Scott supplied.

“The dinosaur and the Power Ranger?” the sheriff guessed.

“Nope,” Stiles replied.  “The fox and the wolf.”

“Ah, the classics then.” The sheriff said, smiling.

“Did you successfully check out any customers?” Melissa asked.  In high school, Scott’s very first job had been at A Fox’s Tale, but he could never get a hang of the register. Stiles still has no idea how he managed to reimburse a customer for thirty six dollars' worth of merchandise that the customer was trying to buy in the first place.  They kept him around because he was great with kids, but when Dr. Deaton approached him about a part time job with animals, they lost him forever, totally breaking Stiles’ heart (Stiles didn’t talk to him for a week after that).

“Uhhh,” Scott eloquently replied.

Stiles thought about it.  He had a few people in the store early that morning before Scott rolled out of bed and appeared in the shop, but after that the only customer was. . .

“One!” Scott exclaimed as he remembered. “Talia Hale came into the shop and bought a book."

Stiles kicked him under the table. Scott shot him his hurt puppy dog look, but Stiles was immune to it by now.

“Talia Hale as in--” Melissa started to ask when the sheriff dropped his fork.

“The Managing Director of Hales’ Wolftastic Books came into the shop?”  the sheriff said, falling into his job voice.  “Did she _do_ anything?”

“Just made Stiles cry,” Scott muttered under his breath.  Except Scott muttering under his breath was like a five-year-old trying to whisper. So, everyone heard it loud and clear.

“Dude!”  Stiles hissed at him.  “Best friend privileges are being provoked!”

“What did she do?” Melissa asked steely. Stiles would never tell his dad this, but he was more scared of Melissa’s wrath than his father’s.

“Oh my god,” he muttered collapsing his head in his hands.  “It’s like dealing with Lydia all over again.”

“Lydia is aware of this development?” the sheriff asked.

“Yeah, she came in during the middle of it,” Scott told him.

“I didn’t even know who she was,” Stiles groaned. “Look, it was probably a bit of spying, but let’s be real.  Her children come into the store all the time.  I don’t think Laura’s kids are going to be giving up on the store anytime soon, anyways. She grew up here. Talia did, I mean. So, she just wanted to look at the store that didn’t look like Mr. Hendrick’s weird antique shop anymore. So, there.  There were questions about Mom, and I kinda lost it. End of story.  No big deal.”

Melissa seemed reassured by his explanation, but the Sheriff didn’t.   At all.

“What kind of questions about your mom?” he demanded.

Stiles sighed.  “She really loved what she did with the shop and wanted to meet her. That was all.  I think she was impressed.”

What Stiles didn’t include was how he didn’t think Talia was worried about A Fox’s Tale being any sort of serious competition for Hales’ Wolfastic Books.  It wasn’t really something he liked to think about too much.

“What you’re telling me is that she liked the store?” the sheriff finally asked.

“I suppose,” Stiles said, purposely stuffing his mouth full of potatoes in order to avoid any more conversation.

“That’s a good sign, right?” Melissa asked, trying to be optimistic. “That someone from a popular book store liked your shop?”

Stiles wasn’t sure if it really worked that way and just kept swishing the potatoes around in his mouth.

“Did you know Daily Grind has officially started selling hazelnut mochas?”  Scott said, changing the subject.

Maybe Stiles wouldn't revoke his best friend privileges after all.

Stiles stuck around after Melissa and Scott left to help clean up, which of course raised the sheriff’s suspicions. The sheriff managed to wait five minutes after the McCalls left before he started interrogating Stiles. He probably thought Stiles was going to start buttering him up right away to ask for something.

Not this time.

“What do you want, Stiles?” the Sheriff asked.

Normally, Stiles would squawk with outrage and ask his father how he could think so low of him that he would only stay to help clean to ask for money or the Sheriff to use his powers for not-so-legitimate reasons before asking for said things.  The last time was when he needed a loan to patch up his baby after the jeep flipped on the road.

But, now when it wasn’t at all true, Stiles didn’t have a burst of indignation.

“I’m not here to ask for anything.” Stiles gathered the rest of the silverware to dump in the sink.

“No?”   the sheriff questioned, filling the sink up with soapy water. “Then why are you here?”

“To wash the dishes,” Stiles informed him, pushing his dad out of the way and taking over the position at the sink.  “You still need to dry, though.”

“Stiles,” the sheriff warned, but he picked up a new towel and got ready to dry anyways. They remained silent until Stiles handed his dad the third plate.

“How’s the store really doing, son?  Are you okay?”

Stiles paid close attention to the dark red barbeque sauce that was blending into the creamy white of the potatoes on his plate before he wiped them off.

“I don’t know. We could be okay. Our sales have been lower but we’re not at the point of bankruptcy or anything.  I don’t know if we’re going to be able to stand up to the Hales long term. I just don’t know.”

“How are you handling that?”

“I’m ignoring it.”

The sheriff snorted. “You can’t just ignore every problem. Life doesn’t work that way. It doesn’t magically fix itself. You’re doing the same thing you did when – when you were younger.”

“You mean when Mom was sick,” Stiles corrected him. 

“I miss her,” Stiles added softly. The sheriff gripped his shoulder, and Stiles turned to look at him.  He couldn't help but notice how old his dad seemed in that moment. His eyes were filled with sadness that accentuated the lines around his eyes.  Stiles tried to give his father an encouraging look and turned back to the dishes, making himself stay on point.

“I’m not completely ignoring the problem.  Part of me was hoping we wouldn’t have to resort to the big measures that Lydia wants to do. Another part of me is scared that even once we do, it still won’t be enough to save the store. We didn’t need to earlier, but now. Now, we might need to. I just need to figure it out. “

The sheriff reached over Stiles' head to place the stack of plates back in the cabinet (there was a reason the sheriff dried and Stiles washed. Stiles would’ve ended up dropping the entire stack). 

“It’s not that I don’t think you can succeed.  You’re darn stubborn and a force to be reckoned with.  But, it is okay, if you end up closing the shop.  I know the place means a lot to you.  To both of us, but I don’t want you to think that your mother or I would ever be disappointed in you for this.  All either of us has ever wanted is for you to be happy." The Sheriff paused, drying each knife individually and then put them all away.  He took a deep breath and then turned directly to Stiles.  “Sometimes, I don’t think you are happy.  At the book store, and it’s not only this past year with the stress of Hales’ opening up.  If you want to be doing something else, or if you want to go back to school, I’m okay with that.”

They had had a very similar conversation when Stiles graduated high school and took over the shop. The Sheriff had wanted Stiles to go away to college and have that experience.  A part of Stiles had to, but he had been scared to leave behind the bookstore and that he would forget all about his mom if he did.  And, he had been actively involved in the bookstore since high school and Stiles and Natalie had plans for him to take over. But he was still scared he would lose that connection to his mom.  The emotions that he felt earlier that day started to swell right back up again. He withdrew his hands from the sink and shakily wiped them on his jeans.

“I just don’t want to lose the shop.  I don’t think I can handle that.  It’ll be like losing her all over again,” Stiles admitted as the tears started to pool up on his eyelids.  “I can’t lose her again.”

The sheriff looked like he was about to start to crying to, but he didn’t say anything. He just reached over and pulled Stiles into a hug.  Stiles held on tight to his father, glad that they were able to comfort each other like this.

The sheriff patted Stiles’ back before he stepped back, but continued to hold tight to both of Stiles’ shoulders.  “I can’t promise that it won’t hurt.  That shop has been part of our lives for such a long time.  And I know all there are so many memories in there, but you will never lose her.   Do you understand me? You’re not going to lose her or forget about her if you leave the store.  The memories aren’t stored on the hardwood floors of the stores but in here.” He tapped the side of Stiles skull.  “You are not going to forget her.  Okay?”

“Okay.” Stiles sniffed, wiping his eyes with his shirt for the second time today.

“Good,” the sheriff said finally stepping back and drying his own face.

Stiles waited till they finished cleaning up before he brought up the main reason he had stayed after dinner.

“Dad?” he asked as they moved into the living room and plopped down on the sofa and recliner in front of the TV.

“Yeah.” The sheriff reached for the remote.

“She’d want you to be happy too,” he said.

The sheriff had yet to turn on the TV and froze.  He then turned back to look at Stiles. 

“What?”  

“You said both of you just wanted me to be happy.  And I’m – I’m working on it,” Stiles said truthfully. “But, she’d want you to be happy too. Even if that meant that you fell in love with someone else.  She loved you just as much as you love her.  Wouldn’t you want her to, if things had been reversed?”

The sheriff was slowly turning red once Stiles mentioned falling in love with other people.  “I am happy, Stiles. I love you.  I love this town, and I love my job.  I’m doing alright.”

“Yeah, but,” Stiles looked up from where he’d been tearing off the cuff of his sweatshirt, “the happiest I’ve seen you since mom passed is with Melissa.   And,” Stiles shrugged, yanking one stubborn string off with his teeth, “It’s _okay_.”

“It doesn’t matter, Stiles.” The sheriff turned back to face the TV screen.

Stiles’ face scrunched up in disbelief and confusion.  “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?  Are you trying to say Melissa doesn’t matter?  How dare you even imply-”

The sheriff shot Stiles a flat look, and Stiles dropped the act.

“Fine. But, I love Melissa. She’s practically a second mom to me. Not that she could ever replace Mom.   She can’t and won’t. Not to me or to you. But she’s been there for both of us.   And I’m not saying this because I’m trying to force you two together, but Scott and I are not total idiots.”

The sheriff looked skeptical, and Stiles rolled his eyes and started to relent, it was worth it if he could get his point across. 

“We’re not all the time. Maybe some of the time. And, no wait.  Anyways, Scott sees how lonely she is.  She’s barely bothered to date, but she’d like to. And, god, this is so weird to be saying out loud to you,” Stiles said, avoiding his dad’s eyes and speeding up as he talked about Melissa, “but she’s hot enough and a fucking fantastic person that she should be getting dates all the time.  But, she works a shit ton and then hangs out with us.  And when you two are together neither of you look as sad. And this does not mean that you should just hang out more as friends, okay, because there’s UST there, Dad, from _both_ of you. So just, just think about it. Okay?”

“Stiles, I don’t.” The sheriff paused and pinched the bridge of his nose with this right hand.  “I don’t even know what UST is.”

“Unresolved Sexual Tension.”

The Sheriff grimaced.   “I’m not talking about my sexual life or lack thereof with my son. It’s too weird.”

“Oh, c’mon. Like you and mom wouldn’t be on my about mine all the time?  How is this any different?”

“Fine. You want to talk about your sex life, Stiles?  How’s it going with your sexting budding?  Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Whoa!” Stiles exclaimed, feel his cheeks heat.  “ _Sexting_ buddy?  One, we do not sext.  There has been no sexting whatsoever.  No orgasms have been involved while texting.  And, how do you know what sexting is but not UST?”

The sheriff muttered something about cops and people being idiots before he speaks up. “So, if you’re not sexting, then what is going on?  Because, I’ve seen the looks on your face, Stiles, when you’ve been texting this person of yours. What’s his name? Mr. Garp? Gun?”

“Grumpy,” Stiles corrected petulantly.

“Uh, huh. It was one thing before with the smiles and the happiness, but now you have this intense, fond look in your eyes. It’s almost like you’re in love with him or something.  And if you were, it would be nice for a father to hear it from his son," the sheriff finished pointedly.

Stiles had zoned out the last sentence his dad had said.  He was still stuck on the word love.  He knew his feelings had gone from crushing to something much more intense, but it gutted Stiles to hear his dad describe him that way.  For his _dad_ to finally show him the truth. What Stiles had been avoiding, especially since Mr. Grumpy had wanted to meet him, was how much he had fallen in love with this man.

Across the room, the sheriff sighed.  “Stiles, were you ever going to tell me that you were in a long-distance and serious relationship?”

“But, I’m not,” Stiles said, still a little shocked.

“You’re not?”

“No. We’re just, uh, just friends.”

“You haven’t told him that you’re in love with him?”

“I may have just kinda figured that out myself?”  Stiles said weakly.

“Oh, lord. Help me,” the sheriff muttered. “Do you know if he’s interested in you?”

“Um,” Stiles hedged.

“Is that a 'he’s straight' um or 'you think so' um?”  the sheriff asked, cutting right to the point.

“He may have asked to meet like four or five months ago?”

“And?”

Stiles sighed. “And, I might have told him it wasn’t the best idea?”

“And why was that?”

Stiles shrugged.

“Stiles.”

“I know he’s bi. And, we flirt all the time. I’ve had a crush on him for awhile, and lately it has been more than that, which was kinda freaking me out. So, he asked, and I freaked out even more.  Because what if?” Stiles shook his hands to represent everything that could have gone wrong. “And I didn’t want to worry about it. Like at all.   I needed it.  Him. To stay consistent.  I still needed him to be there while we’ve been trying to figure out this stupid rival book store that was stealing all my artists and authors.  And if he wasn’t, if things went poorly.  I didn’t think I could handle that and keep the store going. So, I was scared. And said no. And now, I’m in love with him? Why did you have to tell me that?”

The sheriff ignored the accusation.  “Does he know about the store?  About the competition and everything?”

“More or less. It’s weird, because we talk all the time, and I talk about the store problems all the time, but it all comes out really vague? Like, I’m worried about the shop. There’s a competitor. This is bullshit. What if I lose the shop? I really fucking miss my mom, type of thing.”

“So, you two talk about your feelings more than actual facts,” the sheriff pointed out, judgment heavy in his voice.

“I-yeah. Guess I should’ve realized I was in love with him sooner, uh?”

“You mean you should not ignore the feelings that you refuse to talk to him about. Probably.  What’s the guy’s name?”

“Um. . .”

“Stiles, please tell me you know his name,” the sheriff said, sounding exasperated.

“I call him Mr. Grumpy?”

“You’ve been texting a stranger for almost two years?  Do you know how unsafe that is?  He could be anyone.”

“It was a misdial that turned into conversation.  I haven’t let him know who I am either.  He calls me Smartass, and he knows I live in California and have the shop. Which, by the way, _Sheriff,_ he only knows as a shop.  He doesn’t even know that it’s a children’s store. He has a New York City area code, just like he said he was from, and we are both relatively smart about it. He doesn’t get a lot into specifics either.  So, we’re being safe, and you can calm down.”

“I don’t like this.” The sheriff massaged his head.  “Whom have you talked to about this?”

“This specifically?”

The sheriff glared at him from the recliner.

“Well, there’s you with the whole love thing.  I’ve never really had to bring it up to anyone else.  They just kinda know about it.  And tease me about it all the fucking time.  It’s gotten weird lately because it goes to teasing me to looking at me like I’m a sad little puppy or something utterly ridiculous.  And I don’t know why –“ Stiles caught the look on his dad’s face. “Oh. Oh.  They knew before I did to.  That’s just great.  So, they’ve all been thinking I’m pathetic for not realizing that I’m in love with this guy or doing anything.  That makes me feel so much better.”

“You should talk to him, and be the one to ask to meet this time around,” the sheriff advised. “Just, please, be smart about it.”

“Yeah. Right. I’ll get on that.”

“I’m serious, Stiles.  You should-“

“How 'bout we go back to talking about Melissa?  I liked that conversation a lot more.”

The sheriff stared at him for a minute before backing down.  “Fine.  We’re done talking about this.  For now.”

“Yup. Just don’t forget what I said about Melissa.  And I’m think I’m going to head home,” Stiles said, standing up.  He was equally done with conversations.

“Drive safe, Stiles.”

“Don’t fall asleep in front of the TV,” Stiles shouted back before he went out the front door.

He just needed to sleep for fourteen hours to recover from all the emotional conversations from the day.  

* * *

Stiles had just gotten back home from his meeting with Natalie.  She had felt bad enough for Stiles that at the end of the meeting, she offered to take him to the bar and buy him a drink.  Stiles refused, but picked up a six-pack for himself on the way home.  He didn’t want to the pitying looks that he would get at the bar, but he still wanted to drink himself out of his misery.

He was on his second beer, and he had ignored a call from Lydia, his father, and Melissa just checking in on him wanting him to call them back.  He ignored Scott’s call and his text about coming over to do a gaming marathon, eat pizza, and drink beer.

Even though they hadn’t had a game night in forever, Stiles didn’t even feel like being around Scott with his optimism and easygoing attitude.  Stiles didn’t even think that he’d be able to forget and have fun with Scott that night.

His phone buzzed again, and he picked it up, debating if he should just turn the damn thing off when he saw it was a text from Mr. Grumpy asking how his night had been.

And, for some reason, talking to Mr. Grumpy didn’t seem as daunting or annoying as talking to Lydia, his dad, or Melissa.  It wouldn’t feel patronizing or condescending.  He knew Mr. Grumpy would be willing to listen.

Stiles  
 **Awful. Terrible.  The worst night ever.  
** **I don’t want to talk about it.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **What do you want to talk about?**

Stiles  
 **I mean, I’m sitting here drinking a six-pack ALONE by CHOICE  
** **That’s how pathetic I’m feeling, right now.  
** **It’s like an all time low.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **You obviously don’t want to talk about it.**

Stiles  
 **Nope**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Is it about work?**

Stiles  
 **What else would it be about?  It’s like the only two of the things that have been stressing me out in the past year.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **What’s the other thing?**

Stiles  
 **Uh, don’t worry about that.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **Maybe I could help?**

Stiles  
 **Dude, I’d love it if you could magically fix my sales and make sure we continue making a profit, but I don’t think life works like that.  
** **Unless you’re secretly a fairy.  With magical wings and pink tutu and everything.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **You caught me.  
** **Seriously though, I deal in business.  I might be able to help.**

Stiles  
 **Urrnagngggg**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I can’t tell if that’s your mood or if you purposely just smashed the letters on the keyboard.**

Stiles  
 **It’s not a typo.  It’s a real sound.  Duh.  
** **I’m too lazy type out all the difficulties we're having with the store and get into details.  
** **It sounds like a lot of effort.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **We could call?**

Stiles  
 **Like have an actual phone call?  
** **Dude!  You’re a visionary.**

Mr. Grumpy  
 **That’s me, a visionary debonair.  
** **One that you should actually let help you.**

Stiles bit his lip and thought back to the conversation that he had with his dad last week. Calling would be one step closer to being real, right?

Stiles chugged the remaining of his bottle and thought, what the hell, as he pushed dial on his cell phone.

“Hello?” someone answered, sounding surprised.  The voice was definitely masculine.  It wasn’t absurdly low or gruff like Stiles had first imagined that first text message, oh so long ago.

“Hey. I’m calling.  Like you suggested.  So you can help me, and do your business magic,” Stiles responded.

Mr. Grumpy snorted. “No, Hi.  How are you?  Or this is Smartass who was just going to scare the shit out of me by calling.”

“Don’t be such a wimp. You were the one that suggested it. Besides, don’t you have Caller – ID? You knew it was me. It’s not like you have a super old cellphone that existed before that, because, dude, you text all the fucking time and phones that old do not text, okay?

“I think you’ve gone over your dude quota for the day.  You’ve already used it twice since I texted you.”

“Sorry, man. I’m on my third beer,” Stiles said, kicking of his shoes and resting his legs on the coffee table (or was it an end table? Stiles couldn’t remember) and took a long sip of his drink as to prove a point.

“So talk to me about the store.”

“The rival company has started to kick our ass,” Stiles complained.  “Like, apparently, their sales weren’t doing too well either at first. So, you know she thought that they would stay that way, and hopefully wither up and die or something. At least that’s what she said. She could’ve been lying to make me feel better, but I don’t really think that’s something to do. But I have no idea how she got any of their numbers.  I mean, I asked, but she kinda just snarked back at me and I think we kinda had one of our sarcasm arguments.  They happen time to time.  My favorite one was where –“

“Hey, Smartass!”

Stiles startled on the sofa. He had kinda forgotten he was talking to a person.

“Yeah?”

“How about you go back to the point.  The rival company has started to kick your ass.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Stiles grumbled.

“Do you want my help or not?”

“You’re the one that was practically begging to give it.”

There was a loud sigh over the phone.  “I’m hanging up now.”

“Fine, fine. Getting back to the point.” Stiles said, rolling his eyes **.** “We’ve been steadily decreasing in terms of sales and numbers.  We’re not going to be bankrupt by the end of the month, but we will be by the end of the summer.”

“What’s your marketing campaign like?”

“Ummm,” Stiles said, thinking about the few flyers and bulletin boards they have in the store and out on the day of the Farmer’s Market.

“How do you not have a marketing campaign?  No wonder you guys are falling behind.”

“Hey!” Stiles squawked, moving to sit straight up on the couch in anger.

“It’s business 101, Smartass.”

“Yeah, well. We’ve never needed one.”

“Until now.”

Mr. Grumpy waited for Stiles’ response, but Stiles stays quiet, thinking it over.

Stiles heard a sigh on the line before Mr. Grumpy continued talking.  “Does the other company have a marketing campaign?”

Stiles exhaled obnoxiously. He was loath to admit it. “Yeah.”

“So rearrange some money, and hire someone for marketing.  It’ll pay off.”

Stiles rubbed his hand across his eyes.  “That’s not completely necessary.”

A growl of frustration came from Mr. Grumpy’s end. “Look, marketing and advertising is –“

“Not what I meant,” Stiles said, cutting him off.  “My friend kinda has some ideas that she’s been wanting to implement since this whole thing started, and I’ve told her no.  To wait and see.”

“Why?”

“The logical reason is because it’s the last-ditch effort type of thing, and I didn’t want to do it while we were doing okay.  If we did it, and didn’t get positive results or get the other company to leave, there was no way we were going to survive permanently. Now, though. . .” Stiles trailed off thinking about how they actually _need_ this if they’re going to survive.  How survival isn’t guaranteed.

“Now?” Mr. Grumpy prompted.

“Now. It might actually pull it off. It might actually give us the kick we need, but what if it isn’t enough?  It’s going to be failure anyways.  I guess-" Stiles paused, feeling vulnerable.  He had never talked about this out loud, and it took him a few seconds to remember that he was talking to Mr. Grumpy.  Even if talking over the phone was different, he was still the same person that Stiles had trusted with the rest of his secrets.  It was just harder, Stiles thought, to verbalize them instead of writing them down. 

Stiles sunk lower into the couch cushions as he continued. “I guess, I’m just scared. Petrified, really, of losing. And, if we do this, there’s no going back.”

“I know this place means a lot to you, and how much you must miss you mom.  I-I can’t imagine how hard this must be.  But – now you’re probably going to hate me for saying this – but. You’ve been thinking about leaving the store for a while now.  I know you wanted more out of life.”

“So what, you think I should just give up on it?” Stiles asked angrily.  “Just because I was thinking of doing other things, doesn’t mean I was going to give up on the store, and close it down!”

“I know, I know.   Fuck,” came grumbled from Stiles’ phone.  “All I mean is, I know you don’t want to lose the store. I get it.  And I _do_ think you should fight for it.  A fight to the death for something you love so much, but if things go wrong.  I think it’s just something you should remember.  That your life isn’t going to be over if the store ends.  It’s not something you should be scared of.”

Stiles thought back to 18 months ago when he was looking at applications for the local police academy and for colleges.  The only reason he hadn’t actually applied for either one was because he wasn’t sure which one he wanted to do.  Now, Stiles felt guilty for not wanting to devote full time to the store, but he wasn''t sure if he really wanted to. The past year had been exhausting.  Normally, all Stiles had to do was run a well-oiled machine, which wasn’t too difficult.  But for the past year, Stiles has felt like tearing his hair out as he spends more and more time in the office and down the business hole, and he’s probably the second most stressed in his entire life. Second only to when his mom was sick and then passed away. 

“So you think I should fight?”  Stiles said, choosing to by-pass everything else in that conversation.  It would be something that Stiles would continue to think on for months to come, but not something he wanted to actually get into.   Mr. Grumpy was supposed to be helping him with the _business_ portion, after all.

“Yeah, I think you should fight.  Pull out all the stops and fight for the store you love so much.”

Stiles thought about Lydia’s plan and then of the Hales.  He thought of Jenny and Max and how utterly confused the poor little kids were going to be if they were going to do this.  “I’m going to be stomping on a lot of people’s feet if I’m going to do this.”

“If it makes you feel any better just remember that it’s business.  It’s not personal, it’s business.  Just remember that.”

But it’s not, Stiles thought. The whole reason he wants his store to stay open is for personal reasons.  It’s his mom, pure and simple, and that’s why he was going to fight so hard.

“You’re wrong,” he tells Mr. Grumpy.  “But, thanks. I- This was nice. Talking to you on the phone. We should do this again.”

“Yeah?” Stiles wasn’t sure, but he thought Mr. Grumpy sounded hopeful.

For the first time that night, Stiles broke into a genuine smile.  “Yeah,” he replied softly.  “Thank you.  Goodnight, Grumpy.”

“Goodnight, Smartass.”

Maybe, Stiles thought as he stripped down to his boxers and climbed into bed, they should trade their first names soon.

* * *

 

‘The Big Bad Wolf Huffs and He Puffs, But Will He Blow the House Down?’ stared Stiles in the face was he looked at The Beacon.  He picked up the newspaper on his way to the store. The Martins had not only been able to convince the editor to run a piece, but got their best writer to write it.  _And_ put it on the front page.

The article described Hales’ Wolftastic Books as the Big Bad Wolf that came thundering into town where no other superstores or chains existed, and then compared it to A Fox’s Tale, where it highlighted its charm. There were quotes from multiple families who talked about how the store was a godsend for their families and a place where they could safely allow their kids to be.  The article forewarned a future of Wal-Marts and a town that looks like every other goddamn suburb in the United States.

Stiles liked the article. It warned of the actual dangers to the store and to the town.  A Fox’s Tale might actually have to close, and the article didn't sugarcoat it, but it was also optimistic. There was hopefulness to the article that makes Stiles feel hopeful too.   The end of the article directed the reader to turn to the back for Letters to the Editors to read more about it, which Stiles thought was odd. The article hadn’t been published yet, so how could there be letters to the publisher?

There were three letters published about the store.  Two of them were anonymous and looked like they were mailed to the newspaper ages ago. One explained how much they love A Fox’s Tale, and that it was a shame to see a place always so lively and full of children to be so empty lately.  Her poor child didn’t have anyone to play with the last time they dropped by the shop. It was a call to the editor to remind the town how much the kids, and not the parents, loved the place.

The second one was about a customer’s horrible experience at Hales’ Wolftastic Book Store. The sales associates didn’t have any idea of the books they were looking for, which the customer knew the plot but not the names. The customer had remarked that at that point he might as well as ordered them off of Amazon, because it was just as cheap as it was at the store. They also complained that the bake goods in the café were dry and not very tasty.

The third letter made Stiles’ eyebrows go way up.  It was almost like a continuation of the Big Bad Wolf article.   The writer explained that he was new to the town and how much he loved it.  What he loved about it was its uniqueness.  The chain store took away from the appeal of Main Street.  He said that he loved his job at A Fox’s Tale, and he knew could tell how much the kids loved it there.  He was sure the kids would all be really disappointed when they wouldn’t be able to play around there anymore or go to Story Time with Stiles because their parents preferred shopping at Hales’ Wolftastic Books.

There was only one person who could’ve written that letter.

“What is this?” Stiles demanded holding out the newspaper in his hand as Kira and Isaac walked into the store.

Kira looked at him curiously and came up to look, while Isaac stood sheepishly by the front door.

“Oh, these letters are great, Stiles!”  Kira exclaimed as she skimmed over them.   “We’ll get people back in here in no time!”

Stiles waited until she got to the last letter, which made her eyes go wide.

“Isaac, you wrote this?” Kira asked, looking over to the front door where Isaac was still standing.

Isaac looked like he didn’t know how to react.  He settled for a shrug.

“This is great!” Kira said.  “No, really!  It’s really good,” she assured him after Isaac gave her a critical look.

“I can’t believe you wrote something nice for the shop,” Stiles said in disbelief. He was shocked, honestly shocked to see a kind letter in the paper from Isaac, of all people. He didn’t know Isaac had it in him to be kind – kind to anyone besides kids and Scott that is.

Stiles’ comment seemed to put Isaac back on his feet.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, it was for the shop.  Not _you_ ,” Isaac pointed out.  “I work here too. I don’t want to lose my job.”

“Yeah, well,” Stiles started snipe back at him when he caught Kira’s eye.  She looked pointedly at the paper and crossed her arms.  “Thanks,” he forced out.

Isaac’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you just thank me?”

“Don’t get used it to it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I don’t think a miracle will happen twice, anyways.”

“How about you get to work.”

“Now, that sounds more familiar.”

“Boys,” Kira said, laughing before she pulled Isaac back to the Employees Room to hang up their coats.

Stiles glanced down at the article.  Kira was right. It was really well written. He knew that Isaac was still trying to figure out what to do with the rest of his life.  Stiles didn’t think that he wanted to be working in a children’s bookstore for the rest of his life, but Stiles could see Isaac writing children’s books.  He made up stories to the kids all time.  It never stood out to Stiles before, because it was something that they all did in the shop, but if Isaac had a knack for writing too, he might actually be able to make some good books.  Not that Stiles would ever tell Isaac that.  For one, Stiles still has his pride (for now), and two, he’s not sure that Isaac would trust him enough to believe him.  Maybe, if Stiles was feeling charitable, he would mention something to Scott.

Stiles ripped the first page and the letters to the editor page out of the newspaper and put them up on one of the bulletin boards.  The battle had just begun.

* * *

 

By lunchtime the Big Bad Wolf story was all over the Internet.  Stiles threw his phone at Kira when she walked back into the shop after lunch break.  It had continuously buzzed for the past twenty minutes and continued to buzz while it was in her hands.

“What’s going on with your phone?”  she asked curiously, looking at the main screen. She frowned.  “Stiles, why are you getting so many notifications?”

“Lydia did something,” Stiles said in way of an explanation.

 “Lydia did what?” Kira asked.  “What’s your password?”

“0666,” Stiles told her.

Kira punched in the code and started scrolling through the notifications that were coming in. Stiles knew that she would be looking at an assortment of Twitter, email, and text notifications coming in to both Stiles’ personal accounts and the store's account.

“Stiles, this is all about the store,” she said in wonderment.  “What exactly did Lydia do?”

“Make my life hell,” Isaac grumbled, coming up from the back of the store.  Isaac’s phone had been going crazy too, due to the fact that he had used his real, full name on the letter to the editor. The letter that was now plastered all over the Internet. 

“Lydia, Allison, and Danny decided to cause an Internet sensation,” Stiles told Kira.

“Who’s Danny?” She said looking up from the phone.

“He’s someone we went to high school with.  Lydia and Danny are still friends.”

“Ok.” There was a pause and then, “I still don’t understand _how_ they caused an Internet sensation.”

“Allison’s a blogger,” Isaac said.  “Lydia has one too, but Allison puts a lot of time into hers and it's been backed by companies and stuff.  She has a lot of followers.”

Stiles looked at him in surprise.  “I didn’t know that.”

Isaac ignored him. “Her blog started off with her fitness regimen and her archery life, but her other interests started to bleed into it, especially once Lydia started hers, which focused on fashion. “

“I knew that,” Stiles muttered.

“It’s gotten plenty of attention. Lydia decided to take advantage of her audience and they wrote a post about the pros of local stores versus the chains that are slowly taking over the world and used A Fox’s Tale and Hales’ Wolftastic Books as an example.  She used newspaper articles to help support her claim.”

“And it just took off from there?  She must have a huge audience,” Kira said.

“Not exactly.” Stiles said, taking over the explanation from Isaac. ”Instead of making it look like this one blog, Allison’s apparently, was promoting A Fox’s Tale, they then had Danny help make a separate site that’s supposed to look like a response to Allison’s post. Lydia said something about it looking like it’s affecting more people than it actually is.  So there’s now a site that’s about saving A Fox’s Tale and another site about Hale’s Wolftastic Books being the Big Bad Wolf. Allison and Lydia used their blogger contacts to help spread the word.  And it spread.  Like most definitely spread.”

“That’s great!” Kira said, full of optimism.

“It would be better if my phone would stop buzzing like crazy,” Isaac muttered.

Stiles silently agreed.

“But it’s all positive notifications for the store and what you wrote, Isaac! This is great news. We might keep our jobs, yet!” Kira said, smiling and pumping her arm in the air, which then sent Stiles' phone sailing out of her hand and through the air and landing with a loud _thunk_.  Stiles and Kira both winced.

“That was impressive,” Isaac remarks.

“Uh, oops?” Kira said weakly as Stiles went over to retrieve his phone.  The screen was black when he picked it up.

“At least it stopped buzzing,” he muttered.

“Stiles, I’m so, so sorry!” Kira popped up behind him.  “I’ll try to help you pay for a new one, I promise!”

Stiles shook his head as he took the back off the phone to make sure there wasn’t anything loose back there.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her as he took the battery and the sim card out before sliding them back on.  “Do you know how many phones I go through?  I’m a total klutz and have actual phone insurance for a reason.  This is my second phone of the year.”

“But it’s only March.”

“Exactly,” Stiles told her and rebooted his phone.  After a minute the screen was bright again and the incessant buzzing had started again.

“Alright, time to turn the notifications off,” Stiles said firmly.

“Wait, you can do that?” Isaac said, pulling out his own buzzing phone.

“Yup!” Stiles smiled at him and walked back to his office to call Lydia and Allison and figure out how to deal with the press from this point forward.   Isaac could figure out how to turn the notifications off by himself.

* * *

 

It turned out that Lydia had been talking to news reporters too and had talked their entire pseudo-family talking about having a protest against Hale’s Wolftastic Books.

Scott had been mentioning it to his patients, or, really their owners.  Scott didn’t talk to animals – well, he did. Stiles had totally seen him do it, but that wasn’t the point. Most of the pet-owning people in Beacon Hills were families, meaning they had tons of kids.  His dad was mentioning it at work to his co-workers and pretty much anyone that would listen. Melissa talked it up at the hospital, especially when kids showed up.  Wouldn’t the kid like a good pick-me up, like a book, after a hospital visit? Natalie had been the stereotypical housewife for the day, completely playing up the gossip queen and stirring interest for a protest.

It had worked too. Stiles had received a call from Mrs. Worthington, one of his best customers, who told him that she was going to hold a protest and start boycotting Hales’ Wolftastic Books.  She assured him that he didn’t need to do anything, and that the town needed to protect their own. She had apologized that they had left him to the wolves, but they were going to make it right and hung up. Stiles couldn’t help but feel a little lighter and brighter just from that one phone call alone.

Lydia also said he should have a press conference.  Or what would normally be a press conference.  He was going to give a speech, and who ever showed up, showed up (they decided it wasn’t a good idea to call it a press conference) and six stations had already called about getting an interview.  Most were local, but there were also a couple of California-based stations (you know, ones that they got in LA) and even a national station.

They decided to have the ‘press conference’ on Friday and then schedule the interviews after that. That way, the protest against Hale’s would’ve started and would get the attention of the TV crews.

Lydia was confident that it was going to turn out great.  She even had Kira designing T-shirts for the store.

Stiles hoped so, but when he looked at the numbers for the day, his optimism had steadily decreased. They might have gotten a ton of publicity, but their numbers hadn’t increased.  Still, it had only been day one.  There was still a lot of work to do.

By Friday, things had changed significantly at A Fox’s Tale.  The foot traffic had increased considerably, and the in-store sales had a slight increase too.  Stiles had been surprised to see that the online sales had skyrocketed, which was funny because it was previously only used during the holiday season

Now, they were shipping books and tons of A Fox’s Tale T-shirts across the entire country. It was nice, and helping the finances of the store, but Stiles really didn’t want the shop to turn into an online site. He wanted to keep the actual shop open, and he wasn’t sure if the online sales would really help with that in the long run.  Stiles even felt good enough to browse at some undergrad programs without feeling supreme guilt.    

What wasn’t clear was if Hale’s Wolftastic Books were being affected by A Fox’s Tale’s strategic planning. The boycott and the protesters had started (there’s something endearing about lots of small kids protesting a big chain store and chanting “The Big Bad Wolf Can’t Blow My Bookstore Down”), but it didn’t mean the store was actually feeling the heat.

But, at the moment, Stiles wasn’t thinking of that.  He and Scott were in his office preparing for his “press conference.” Stiles had notecards littered all over the desk as he tried to make sure his speech was perfect. Scott was nixing some of them (mostly were Stiles had gotten too excited and started using swears and not-so-polite terms) and approving others.

“Fuck, dude, I don’t want to do this,” Stiles said nervously.

Scott snorted. “All you do is talk, Stiles. I think you’ll be fine at giving a speech.”

“Exactly. All I do is talk. But it’s not really _talking_.  It’s rambling, which isn’t good.  Well, it’s not necessarily bad either, but it’s not eloquent.  And I need to be eloquent.  I need to make a good impression for this store." Stiles checked the arrangement of his cards one more time before turning to Scott.  “Dude, you always make a good impression.  Well, except that one time with Allison’s parents and the condom –“

“Stiles!”

“But, everyone loves you! You’re like Superman. Not in the super strength, Mr. hero way, but in the nice guy always does the right thing.  Maybe you’re more like Steve Rogers, but you know what I mean. You should totally do this speech,” Stiles said nodding enthusiastically.

“No way. I’m here because of _you_ but you’re here for the _shop_. You’re the one that holds all that passion.  Just use um, ethos? You know, talk about your mom and the place she built for the community.”

“Pathos, Scott. That’s pathos.”

Scott blinks back at Stiles. “What’s pathos?”

“It’s Aristotle’s reh- you know what.  Nevermind.”

“You’re going to do great, Stiles.  How much longer do we have?” Scott asked reaching for Stiles’ phone that was lying on the desk to check the time.

“Stiles, why is your phone off?”

Stiles tried to ignore how he can feel his face flushing and shrugs, pretending it’s no big deal.

Scott sighed. “Why’s your phone off?”

“Oh, you know.   All those notifications and things. They were really getting too much. It was distracting.”

“You mean the notifications you turned off a week ago?”

“Yeah. Well, they’re still on the phone, you know.  Totally has the potential to be too distracting.  So I turned it off.”

“You mean this doesn’t have anything to do with Grumpy?”

“Mr. Grumpy,” Stiles corrected automatically.

Scott gave him a pointed look.

Stiles groaned, but explained anyways.  “Mr. Grumpy was the one to tell me to fight for the store, and now it’s been all over the place. There’s no way he hasn’t heard about it, but he doesn’t know it’s my store or me.  And I didn’t think I would be able to keep that a secret if I talked to him this week.  And that’s a lot to handle, so phone's off so I won’t be as tempted to talk to him.”

“When was the last time you talked to him?”

“Four days, nine hours, aaaaaaaand,” Stiles moved the mouse over his computer to check the time, “twelve minutes.”

“Is that the longest you two have gone without talking to each other?”

“Yup.”

Scott stared at him, and Stiles stared at his phone.  He was really missing Mr. Grumpy.  Although he had been insanely busy this week, he just knew a couple words with Mr. Grumpy would make him feel better.

“Okay," Scott said, breaking the silence and moving on.   “We have fifteen minutes before Lydia comes to get you.  Let’s go through the speech one more time.”

* * *

 

Derek and Boyd were at home lounging around on the couch and debating dinner options when Derek’s phone rang.

“Derek, turn on the TV now,” Talia said instead of a normal greeting.

“You mean you’re actually encouraging me to watch TV?”  Derek asked as he searched for the remote, lost in the couch cushions.

Talia sighed. “Channel Five. Those cute little protestors won’t seem so cute now.  We’ll talk to you after it ends.”

It had been a weird week. Things had been going well for the Beacon Hills branch, and then suddenly they were facing an onslaught from the press and the public for being a chain store in Beacon Hills. First the newspaper ran an article and then some blog posted about it (Derek kept hearing the name Allison Argent. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but he had an inkling that she was the dark-haired girl that he’d seen with Lydia around town).  Apparently, the entire world now thought they were the Big Bad Wolf.  They even had some protesters outside of the store, if you count small children looking adorable stomping up and down the sidewalk with signs as protestors.  It was cute, if slightly annoying.  Luckily, it didn’t seem to catch on to their adult patrons.

Their online sales had decreased this past week, assumingly from the negative light they had received on the Internet, as had the children’s section’s sales. The kicker was that it just wasn’t in this particular branch, it was in all stores.  The whole thing just seemed ridiculous, and they were waiting for other towns to remember that they didn’t have another children’s bookstore to go to for their sales to go back up.  The rest of world would forget about this conflict sooner than later.

Derek frowned, catching the end of his mother’s comment.  “What ends?” he asked, but the line had already gone dead.  He put away his phone and turned to see Boyd holding the remote.

“What are we watching?” Boyd asked.

“I have no idea. Just turn to channel five. Whatever it is hasn’t made my mother happy.”

Derek’s eyebrows flew upwards as soon as Stiles Stilinski appeared on the screen in front of A Fox’s Tale.

“Uh,” grunted Boyd.

Stiles was obviously nervous, Derek thought, as he watched his long fingers dance in the air as he talked, but he seemed to forget the nerves as the speech went on. Derek couldn’t help but notice that Stiles voice quickly grew stronger and his eyes sparkled with passion as he spoke. 

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it,” Stiles was saying.  “Books are going to be slightly more expensive compared to Hale’s Wolftastic Books, but you get the service you deserve here.  I’ve grown up in this shop and know the books inside and out, and I make sure my employees do too.  Not only can we help you figure out the best books for your kids, but we love them just as much as your kids do.  You tell me if you can get the best service at Hale’s.”

Derek sighed loudly and exchanged a dark look with Boyd.  They had actually struggled finding employees for this particular branch, and the entire store was still figuring things out a bit, especially since they’d been making small changes here and there, but when most of the employees were from the age of 16-22, well.  They didn’t really care about the job, except that they were making money.

“My mom took over A Fox’s Tale from Mr. Hendricks about thirty years ago.  Maybe not all of you remember what the store was like when he owned it, I certainly don’t, but I have had it described as an antique store for children’s books.  When my mom took it over, she made sure it was the best place possible for children. A place they could actually take out and look and enjoy the books and be comfortable.  We don’t have any problems with letting kids have fun in the store. Don’t tell them this, but they are welcome to be wild and free, something that is being strongly discouraged everywhere else in our society,” Stiles was saying on the television screen.  “The interior design was adapted for children, and we’ve even had adults enter get struck with nostalgic feelings.  Talia Hale - ”

Derek stared at the screen in wonder.  How the hell did Stiles know his mom?  He had a nagging feeling that Laura and her new family was going to make an appearance in the speech, but not his mother.

“-Talia Hale had even complimented the store only a few weeks ago, and wanted to talk to the creator herself about the great work that she did.  Unfortunately, my mother has passed away.”

Derek saw the way that Stiles’ hands formed into fists at his sides, still for the first time. Derek’s mind bounced to Smartass, who had told him it was still hard to say every time that his mother was dead, even sixteen years later.  But, Derek refused to dwell on Smartass for too long, because if he did, he would get a sinking feeling in his stomach.  He hadn’t heard from Smartass for almost a week.  No, instead, Derek turned back to the TV.

“We make a point to be there for you.  To help you not only with holiday and birthday gifts and school projects, but also for when you really need it.  You can count on us during those rough family times like when a spouse is really sick or when work starts taking over your lives,” Stiles said pointedly, obviously alluding to very specific people.  “We will be there for you and your children.  We just hope you can be here for us, in return.”

Stiles' speech broke with applause and the audience starting to chant “Down with the Big Bad Wolf!”

Derek leaned down to Bailey who was at his feet, unaware of the turmoil happening in Derek’s life. “I love you,” he told her, scratching behind her ears.  “But I wish Mom hadn’t been inspired by her new wolf-dog when she named the store."

“We would’ve been labeled with the Big Bad Wolf anyways,” Boyd said. “Or something much worse.”

“Probably.” Derek sat back up after kissing Bailey on the head.

The TV screen then cut to a shot in front of Hale’s Wolftastic Books where the children protestors were. There was a reporter talking over their chants how the town’s future had decided to boycott Hale’s and had been staging protests after school all week.  It then cut to Derek himself.

“What the fuck?” Derek muttered.

Boyd looked at the screen closely.  “Isn’t that the tie that Bailey chewed up right after we opened the store?”

“Yeah,” Derek replied, looking at the bright neon tie that had been a gift from Jenny, which Bailey had decided was too offensive to her eyes and tore it shreds. Derek had been grateful.

“We can offer the town many things.” Derek was saying gruffly on the TV screen. “We offer cheap books that the town needs and organic coffee and treats that are quite addictive.”

The screen then cut back to the reporter in front of the store.  “It sounds like brainwashing to me!  Trying to brainwash a small town like they did to the rest of America, but this town is calling Hale’s Wofltastic Books out!  Cheap books aren’t excuse for real service, and they have plenty other places to get addicted to coffee.  They won’t be needing to come back for more, here folks. We’ll keep you up dated on how Beacon Hills continues to fight for its heart and soul against the Big Bad Wolftastic Books!"

“Thanks, Cindy,” a news anchor sitting in the station said.   “Our next story is –“

Derek powered off the TV. “Mom’s going to kill me”

“Yup.” Boyd glanced over to Derek. “At least tell me that segment of you was cut.  It wasn’t all you said.”

“Yes, it was cut.” Derek groaned.  “I talked a lot about the community and the charity we do with the business we get, and how we were going green.  Fuck, I told Laura she should’ve done that.  I hate public speaking.”

“What was that from?”

“It was one of the statements I made before we opened the branch to local station. I don’t think they even decided to air it. Fuck.”

Derek’s phone started to ring again.  “Hello?” he said hesitantly, not wanting to get yelled at by his mom.

“Mom’s house. Fifteen minutes. Bring Boyd with you,” Laura said.  There was a pause and then, “Be prepared.”  Then the line went dead.

“Was that the sound of disappointment?”  Boyd asked.

Derek shook his head. “Luckily, it was Laura. We’re going to Mom’s,” he told Boyd, standing up.

Derek’s parents had rented a – large – house near the preserve while they tried to figure everything out for the moving of the headquarters.  Between his parents, Cora, and Peter, and a few other employees, it served as the hotel when people flew between Beacon Hills and New York.

Derek glanced down at his phone as they headed out the door, hoping to find a text from Smartass, but there was no such luck.  Derek swallowed hard and tried to focus at the problem at hand.

* * *

 

Derek faced an angry horde of Hales when he arrived at his parents. Luckily, the attention soon drifted from him to his mother.  They demanded an explanation for why Talia had gone to A Fox’s Tale. It took a while before things finally calmed down, and then they managed to assess the damage the press had made.  

Really, nothing had changed. Hale’s online and children's section sales would probably continue to plummet for a little bit, but the whole thing would probably blow over in about a month. Or so they hoped.

Peter, who was back in New York and was communicating through Skype, wanted to issue a statement and use a sneaky, villainous fox analogy for A Fox’s Tale, but it was quickly shot down.  There was no way that they could issue any statement, especially one painting A Fox’s Tale in a negative light without getting more backlash. The longer the meeting went on, the more Derek felt like he was sinking further into hell. This type of business made his head pound and the desire to get out was stronger than ever. 

“I was surprised that Stiles didn’t use Jenny and Max against us in his speech,” Derek said to Laura after the business meeting had adjourned and his family had poured a couple bottles of wine to relax.

Laura gave him a weird look. “I’m not.”

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?  He used Mom.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Mom’s an adult. Jenny and Max are kids who love him and his store.  They keep begging him to come to Hale’s, and he never manages to say no to them.  Granted he’s never said yes, but he refuses to let them down.”

Laura downed her glass of wine and poured herself another one before she continued. “Besides, he called Sean last week and told them that they were going to be doing a campaign against the store to prepare the kids.  Sean said he apologized and everything for how confusing it must be to Jenny and Sean.”

Derek just stared at her. “He told you for the kids?” he asked, hating how his heart seemed to skip a beat.  Stiles wasn’t allowed to be so nice and considerate to his family. Derek always felt utterly confused after he would attend a Story Time with Stiles event with Jenny and Max. Stiles was just always so good with the kids, and it obvious he cared about Jenny and Max as much as they cared about him.

“Wait,” Derek said, narrowing his eyes at her.  “You _knew.”_

Laura glanced at their parents and made sure they weren’t paying attention – they were too busy talking to Boyd about Erica and how happy they were that she had decided to move to California with him.  Erica wouldn’t be moving for another month, and Boyd still hadn’t picked out an apartment yet.

“Yeah,” Laura finally replied softly.  “It’s not like we could’ve really done anything to prevent it, and"-- her eyes flitted over to their parents again before she continued--“and I would actually like for A Fox’s Tale to stay open.  I’m pretty sure Mom would too.”

“Do you think they’ll be able to?”

Laura shook her head. “Probably not, if they stay the same as they are now.  I think it needs to be something a little different to manage to stay open.”

“Different like what?”

“I’m not sure. But my prediction that they’re not going to last long is still standing strong.  Even if this balances things out for them, I don’t think it will last in the long term.”

It really was a shame, Derek thought.  A Fox’s Tale really was a great place.  With a pause in the conversation, he automatically checked his phone, and then tried to drown the disappointment in wine when he saw he had no new texts.

“What’s that all about?” Laura asked him, gesturing to his phone.  “You were checking it all throughout the meeting too.”

“Nothing,” Derek muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket.  “Just waiting for a reply.”

Laura regarded him, narrowing her eyes as she thought about it.  “From Smartass?”

Derek nodded.

“When was the last time you heard from him?”

Derek grimaced. “A week ago,” he admitted.

“Oh, Derek.” Laura sighed.

Derek turned away from the sad look in her eyes.  It made him feel pathetic.

“You haven’t made any more process on the real life front?”

“I talked to him on the phone.”

“That’s new”

Derek nodded silently.

“When did you guys do that?”

“A week ago.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” Derek said, getting up for another bottle of wine.  He was going to need more alcohol to deal with the sad sympathy that was wafting off Laura for him.

“Have you texted him?”

“Um.” Derek wasn’t actually sure.  He had been so nervous after the phone call that he couldn’t remember if he ever gotten around to texting Smartass or not.  He wanted him to feel like he had some space.  “I’m not sure,” he finally told her.

Laura rolled her eyes. “He might have been just has nervous after that phone call as you.  Text him before you drive yourself crazy.”

 All empathy disappeared from Laura, as she thought he was being stupid.  Instead, she switched gears and told Derek about the clay mug that Jenny had brought home from art class.

Derek and Boyd got home a couple hours later, and before Derek turned off the lights to go to sleep, he texted Smartass.

Derek  
 **I hope your battle’s going well.  I miss you.**

He turned his phone on silent and went to sleep.  Hopefully there would be a response in the morning.   

(Spoiler, there was.)


	7. Chatper 7

Stiles looked at the numbers on his computer, feeling like a complete and utter failure.  He didn’t need Natalie’s help to figure out what that meant. Before he could chicken out completely, he picked up his phone and pushed the dial button. 

“Smartass?”  Mr. Grumpy answered, sounding surprised.

They had started texting regularly again. Stiles had assured him that he was fighting for his store, and that he would let him know when he figured things out. But, besides that, they stayed clear of the topic of work.

Instead, Stiles decided to do all the hard things at once.  He fought for the store and made huge progress on _Pride and Prejudice._ He read a little bit every night, and when he would finish a chapter, they spend hours talking about it, which would lead to talking about his mom.  Stiles had thought the whole thing would make him feel more stressed out, but instead it was almost therapeutic.  In some ways, it made it easier to deal with what was happening with the store.  It reminded him that there were other ways to feel close to her, but all these conversations had all been in text form.  This was the first time that they were having a phone conversation since the first time.

“Hey,” Stiles breathed into the phone, glad Mr. Grumpy had answered.  He wasn’t sure if he would be able to go through with it if it was a voicemail. “Do you still want to meet?” 

* * *

 

Derek was on the phone with Boyd while he stared at his closet. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m not sure this is even a good idea,” Derek mumbled over the phone.

**“** I’m not helping you pick out clothes,” Boyd said shortly.

“I’m not asking you to,” Derek growled out. “I just – am I supposed to treat this like a date?”

Derek was met with silence.

“Boyd,” Derek said sharply.  He could practically hear Boyd rolling his eyes over the phone.

“One second,” Boyd told him.

Derek grumbled and started pulling shirts out of his closet as he waited.

“Derek,” said a female voice over the phone.

“Erica?”

“Who else is going to be on Boyd’s phone? Have you showered yet?”

“Uh-“

“Go shower.  Groom your beard.  We’ll be over in thirty.”

“We?”  Derek could hear Boyd asking over the phone.

“See you soon, Derek!”  Erica told him before hanging up.

Derek put down his phone and headed to the bathroom. A shower he knew how to do.

* * *

 

By the time Derek had finished styling his hair, he had walked into his bedroom in just his towel to find Boyd and Erica looking at his clothes.

He saw Erica clearly give him a once over and gave a panicked look to Boyd.  He just shrugged and said, “She’ll be able to help you better than I will.”

“What you blabbering about over the phone? Something about a date?” Erica asked him.

“I don’t blabber,” Derek told her.

Erica sighed.  “Whatever.  The date?”

Derek wasn’t entirely comfortable around Erica. He hadn’t seen her much in the city, preferring to hide out in his own apartment than go out too often. Most of their interactions had revolved around alcohol, and it was weird to be around her sober. He’d already seen her more in the month she lived here than he did during their entire time in New York, but he still didn’t feel like he knew her.  However, she was the only one offering to help him right now, so maybe he just had to lay it out to her.

“I don’t know if this is supposed to be a date or not,” he finally replied.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Um,” Derek started.  He could already feel his ears turning red.

“Yes, he does.” Boyd answered for him. “He’s in love with this guy.”

“Ooooh,” Erica said in understanding. “This is the texting dude! Smartass or something?”

“I-How did you know that?”

Erica gave him a patronizing smile. “You do know I’ve been dating this hunk of a man for the past two years, right?” she said, gesturing to Boyd. “And we do talk about things in his life.  Like you.”

Derek rolled his eyes.  “Are you going to help me or not?” he grumbled.

“Oh what you do for love,” she sighed, smirking at Boyd.  Boyd ignored her and pulled out his phone.  “Okay, so down to business.  If you want it to be a date, then you should dress like it’s a date.  Make sure you look hot and make him drool.”

Derek hesitated.  “Does that I mean I should wear a suit?”

Erica snorted and eyed him.  Derek self-consciously pulled his towel tighter around his body.

“Not that you wouldn’t look amazing in a suit, but no. Date wear doesn’t always mean formal. Besides, it’s summer, and we are facing some hot California weather."

Derek watched her as she started combing through his pants drawer.  “Please tell me you have some shorts that aren’t basketball shorts,” she said as she pulled out a whole stack of them.

“I have four pairs,” Derek told her, opening up another drawer.  Erica pulled out his jean shorts, chino shorts, neon green shorts, and black shorts.

“I’m not wearing the green ones,” he told her.

Erica rolled her eyes.  “Don’t worry.  I’m here to make sure you look good.  How about the jean or black shorts with this top?”  Erica asked, holding out his bright blue v-neck t-shirt.  Derek eyed the tee, wearily.  He loved that shirt. It was loose and he felt good in it, but he wasn’t sure he looked good in it.

“Are you sure that’s date material?” he asked her.

“Maybe it’s a little casual, but I bet you this color brings out the blue in your very changeable eye color.  And the v-neck is sexy.  Trust me on that.”

“Fine, then I’m wearing the black shorts,” he said grabbing the clothes.

“Fine.”  Erica smiled at him.  Derek waited for them to leave, but Boyd wasn’t paying attention and Erica seemed to be waiting for him.

“Aren’t you going to leave?” he finally asked.

“Nope.”  She plopped down on his bed, next Boyd.

“Fine.  Kick me out of my own bedroom,” Derek muttered, grabbing some underwear and going to change in the bathroom.

“We’re not kicking you out of anywhere!” Erica called after him.  “You could’ve changed in here.”

Derek slammed the bathroom door on her laughing.

* * *

 

Erica and Boyd had decided to casually accompany Derek on his maybe, not date.  Derek wasn’t sure if he was grateful or embarrassed about it.  At the moment, he was standing outside the Luke’s Diner that he was supposed to meet Smartass in and was totally freaking out. Again.

“I can’t believe he’s from Beacon Hills,” Boyd remarked.

“Neither can I,” Derek admitted. It was something he had been originally excited about.  It meant it would be really, really easy to see him, and it had been no trouble to plan this “date” for the next day.  There was no worry about travel plans or anything, but the more Derek thought about it, the more it made him nervous.  Beacon Hills practically hated him, or at least hated the Hales. Plus, there was a nagging voice in the back of his head that was telling him to connect the dots, which he was ignoring.  If he did start to think about it too much, it made him feel nauseous.

“You don’t know what this guy looks like, right?” Erica asked.

“No, I don’t,” Derek told her, wiping his sweaty hands on his black shorts.

“So how do you know who you’re meeting?” She asked. “Is he carrying a red rose or something?”

“Or something.”  Derek replied.  “He’s wearing a red shirt and will have a green book with him.”

Erica smiles wickedly and then bounds up to the door of the diner, not so subtly looking in. 

“Erica!” Derek hissed, alarmed. “What are you doing?’

Erica let out a low whistle.  “Damn, he’s cute.”

“Really?”  Derek said hopefully.

Boyd glanced at Derek and then joined Erica. “Oh, shit,” Boyd said, looking surprised.

“What?”  Derek asked, all hopefulness gone.  Had Erica just been messing with him?

“I think you will think he’s attractive,” Boyd told him.

“Why?” Derek asked slowly, wondering why Boyd thought that.

“Because you think Stiles Stilinski is attractive.”

Derek gaped at him.  “I – I never said that.”

Boyd rolled his eyes.  “Just because I don’t talk a lot, doesn’t mean I’m not observant.”

“Wait,” Erica said, interrupting them. “Are you telling that, _that_ ,” She alliterated by pointing inside, “is Stiles Stilinski?  As in the owner of A Fox’s Tale.  As in the store you’ve been trying to put out of business?"

“Hold on,” Derek said, his brain slowly comprehending what Erica was saying.  “What do you mean _that_ is Stiles Stilinski.”

Boyd traded a look with Erica. “Looks like the guy you’ve been in love with for the past two years _is_ Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek ignored the warning bells going off in his head as he raced over to the front door to look through the window. Sure enough, Erica and Boyd were right. Stiles Stilinski was sitting in a booth with a dangerously tight red shirt and a green book in front of him. He was nervously tapping his fingers against the table and his eyes were flitting around the joint, always coming back to the front door.  Luckily, due to the angle Stiles was at, Derek was pretty sure he couldn’t see who they were through the tiny window on the door.

Derek couldn’t believe he had been such an idiot. He stopped ignoring the pesky voice in his head and started to connect the dots.  Smartass was from Beacon Hills, like Stiles. Smartass started having trouble with a rival company just over a year ago, when Hale’s Wolftastic Books announced they were moving to town.  Smartass had lost his mother when he was young, and his store reminded him of his mom, like Stiles.  A Fox’s Tale had started a hardcore campaign right after Derek had told Smartass to fight for his store.  _How_ could he have been so stupid?

“Fuck,” Derek breathed out and walked back down to the parking lot.  “ _Fuck!_ ”

“Derek!”  Erica called, catching up with him.  “Where are you going?”

“I can’t go in there,” he told her.  “He _hates_ me.  There is no way this is going to end well.”

“You can’t just leave him there,” Erica argued. “He’ll think he got stood up. And he doesn’t hate you. He just hates part of you.”

“Thanks,” he told her.  “That makes me feel so much better.”

Erica shrugged.  It clearly wasn’t her problem.

“She’s right, though,” Boyd said, joining the conversation.  “It’ll be a jackass thing to just leave him there.  Alone.  He’ll definitely hate you then.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Derek asked angrily. “Go in there as Mr. Grumpy-“ Erica snorted, and Derek glared at her as he continued. “And ask him to just forgive me about being Derek Hale?”

Erica and Boyd exchanged a look. Derek wondered how they had gotten so good at reading each other’s minds.

“Maybe you don’t go in there as Mr. Grumpy.” Boyd said slowly.

“What?”

“You’ll still have to stand him up,” Erica explained. “But go in there as Derek Hale and make nice.  Make him like _you_.  The real you and maybe there will be hope for the two of you yet.”

“I’m not sure,” Derek said hesitantly.

“You love him.” Boyd wrapped his arm around Erica and pulled her close.  “It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Derek looked at the diner.  He could try, right? 

* * *

 

Stiles was trying not to panic too much, Mr. Grumpy was _only_ five minutes late. It didn’t mean he was going to stand him up or anything, right?  Stiles groaned, grabbed his chocolate peanut butter milkshake, and slurped enough that he got a brain freeze.

“Ung,” he moaned.  He had forgone his usual order of curly fries by Scott’s recommendation. Something about not wanting to scare the guy away with his eating skills.  Instead, Stiles was making a fool of himself with a milkshake.

The bell that was attached to the front door rang clear, and Stiles jerked his eyes up and –

“No fucking way,” Stiles swore quietly. He slumped down in his seat and pulled his book towards him, pretending to be completely engrossed with it.

Why the fuck did Derek Hale have to show up now?

Stiles could sense Derek standing next to his booth before he heard or saw him, but he resolutely kept his eyes on his book.

Above him, Derek cleared his throat. “Hi, Stiles.”

Stiles clenched his jaw together and glared up and his unwelcomed visitor.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Derek said awkwardly.

Stiles’ eyebrows rose.  “Really?” he said.  “It’s the best diner in a small town.  I’ve probably seen you fifteen times in here the past year or so.”

“Sixteen,” Derek said.

Stiles gave up all pretense of reading his book and slammed it shut.  “What?”

“I – nothing.  Never mind,” Derek said, his eyes glancing down at the book and small smile graced his face.

“It wasn’t nothing.” Stiles argued. “You clearly said sixteen. _And_ you can wipe that smug smirk off you face.  It takes a real man to read _Pride and Prejudice._ ”

Okay, Stiles was ready to admit that Derek’s smile really wasn’t that smug before, but it was now a full-grown smirk.

“Oh, I know,” Derek said, sitting down across from Stiles and grabbing his book.

Stiles narrowed his eyes.  “What do you mean, you _know_?”

“I’ve read it,” Derek replied simply.

And that – that wasn’t cool, in Stiles' book.  Derek wasn’t allowed to have anything in common with Mr. Grumpy, whose presence Stiles was missing at the moment.

“I bet you were forced to read it for school,” Stiles scoffed.

“No,” Derek replied softly.  “We read Jane Eyre during that literature period. Isn’t as good, in my opinion.”

Stiles watched as Derek’s big hands opened the book and practically _caressed_ the pages. Stiles shivered trying not to think of the other things Derek’s hand would be good at caressing.

“It always amazes me that Elizabeth and Darcy were able to fall not only in love but in good opinion with each other after all that hatred in the beginning.”

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but for once, nothing came out.  Not even a witty (or stupid) retort.  Instead, Stiles clamped his open mouth on his milkshake straw and sucked for something to do.

He was surprised to see that Derek started to turn red.

“What?” Stiles demanded.  He watched as Derek’s eyes trailed from the straw to Stiles’ lips and no.

“As fun as this has been, I’m waiting for someone,” Stiles told him.

Derek didn’t move.

“As in you should move,” Stiles instructed him.

“How about I give you company until he gets here?”

“How about no?”

“Why not?”

Stiles stared incredulously at Derek. Where was this coming from? “Because we aren’t friends? I’m pretty sure we don’t even like each other. Because I’m waiting for a blind date, and I don’t want them to see me here waiting for someone else.”

Derek forming a shy little smile was not the reaction Stiles was expecting.  “You brought _Pride and Prejudice_ on a blind date?”

“No.  It’s secretly _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_. Much more romantic.”

“Maybe he’s 42.”

“He’s not 42 years old,” Stiles said, refusing to actually acknowledge the reference for what it actually was.

“How do you know?”

Stiles hesitated.  “He told me.”

“And you believe him?”

Stiles exhaled slowly.  He had believed him.  He had believed everything he’d ever said to him.  Stiles looked at his phone.  Mr. Grumpy was now fifteen minutes late.

“I did,” Stiles said quietly. “But I guess it doesn’t matter, because it doesn’t seem like he’s coming.  Will you, please, leave me alone?”

“I-“

Stiles glared at him.  Mr. Grumpy had stood him up, and he wasn’t going to spend time with Derek, which would just make him feel worse.

Derek shut up and actually looked ashamed. He slowly stood up and went to leave. Stiles pulled over the menu. He was ordering a large curly fries. Maybe even a bacon cheeseburger. He was going to need to drown his sorrows with something and food was closer than alcohol.

“Stiles.”

Stiles looked up to see Derek hovering near the front door.

Derek hesitated before he continued. “Your date was a real idiot to have stood you up.”

And then he left.

Stiles stared after him shock. He was like ninety-nine percent sure that Derek was being sincere.  He was pretty sure that Derek was being sincere the entire time he was here, and he has no idea what to think about that.   But it didn’t matter, Stiles told himself.  He’s firmly in love with some sort of jackass who stood him up and not Derek, even if he was attractive and the only thing he really had against him was that he was a Hale and had lied to him the first time they met. None of that mattered. What mattered were what toppings he wanted on his burger. 

* * *

 

Stiles decided to take the weekend off. He wasn’t going to step into A Fox’s Tale a single time.  He called Kira to see if she work as manager, and then called Scott to see if he wanted to do a marathon with shitty movies beer, pizza, and video games.

“So what’s with the moping session?” Scott asked when he showed up at Stiles’ apartment with a six-pack and a bag of Cheetos, puff style.

“It’s not a moping session,” Stiles informed him. “American Werewolf in London or Wolfman?”

Scott groaned.  “Werewolf movies, seriously?”

“It’s not like you’ve seen any of them.” Stiles tossed Scott the DVD cases.

“This one,” Scott replied, throwing back the remake of The Wolfman.  Stiles rolled his eyes, but bites back a retort.  Just because the film was newer doesn’t mean it’s better.

Scott waited until Stiles had set up the DVD and both of them are comfortable on the couch with the junk food and beer in reaching distance before he brought it back up.

“So, why are you _not_ moping this weekend?”

Stiles turned to glare at him.

“Dude, I’m going to be here all day,” Scott said. “Might as well tell me and get it over with.”

Stiles threw a couple chips in Scott’s face, because he’s mature like that.  Scott managed to catch most of them in his mouth, the asshole.  Scott grinned at his success, but Stiles grumpily turned back to the television screen.

“Come on, Stiles.  I’m your best friend.  You’re really going to refuse to tell me what’s going on?”

Stiles wasn’t looking at Scott, but he was willing to bet, Scott was pulling out all the stops on his wounded puppy dog look. But, he didn’t check. Instead, he reached into the Cheetos’ bag and grabbed a huge handful of Cheetos that he stuffed into his mouth all at once. He sat there and crunched and chewed obnoxiously loudly.

  “Fine, be that way,” Scott muttered.  “But, just remember that I can be just as annoying as you.”

Orange spray flew out of Stiles’ mouth as he tried to laugh.  Stiles wasn’t unaware of his tendency to wear thin on most people.   Scott didn’t usually have that problem.

“Did I tell you about the first time Allison and I met?” Scott asked.

Scott continued to tell the story of when the new girl had sat behind him in high school and how he had fallen in love first sight.   He had been a lovesick puppy at the time and his entire world and conversations revolved around her. It had driven Stiles up the wall after the first few weeks of the honeymoon romance, and he had no desire to sit through all those conversations again.  Stiles chewed as quickly as he could, swallowing too-large chunks of Cheetos that scratched his throat and left him extremely thirsty.

“And how are you two doing anyways?” Stiles asked, hoping to distract Scott from his task at hand.

“Oh, let me tell you in detail from the beginning!” Scott exclaimed smiling dopily.  “She had come into A Fox’s Tale and the sun was –“

“Oh my god,” Stiles groaned.  “Stop.  Just stop.   We’re friends. You tell me the sparks note version of what the fuck is going on between you and Allison.  I will tell you what’s bothering me.  One of the things.   But we are not talking about the second thing.  Period.  I’m not acknowledging it this weekend.”

“Oookay,” Scott replied slowly. “Is this about how the date with Mr. Grumpy went?”

“If it was, we wouldn’t be talking about it, would we?”

“Okay.” Scott muttered.                     

“You and Allison?”  Stiles prompted.

Scott shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It’s complicated.”

“It’s _been_ complicated since we graduated.” Stiles countered.

“Yeah, but it’s different now. “ Scott grabbed a beer for himself and didn’t look Stiles in the eyes.  "We’ve stopped sleeping with each other.”

“Whoa, when did that happen?” Stiles asked trying to think of the last time he saw them together.

“Um, a couple months ago.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”  Stiles demanded actually feeling a little hurt.

“You’ve been busy with the store and everything. It was my drama, and I’m a big boy now. I can handle it. And, I didn’t want to make the you and Isaac situation any worse.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes.  “Why would it be worse?”

“They went on a few dates,” Scott said his face starting to mirror Stiles’ getting ready for mopping.

“They?  As in Isaac and Allison?”  Stiles spit out.

“Yeah.” Scott said dejectedly.

“That jackass!”  Stiles exclaimed.  “How dare he? What was the fuck-“

“Stiles!  It’s fine.”  Scott burst out loudly, interrupting him.  He then sagged back on the cushions and continued on softly.  “I told him it was fine.”

“But it’s not!  It’s a total offense against the bro code.  Isaac and I aren’t bros but he better fucking treat you like one. He’s so fired,” Stiles said, grinding his teeth down in anger.

“You’re not firing him,” Scott said.  “And I said it was fine. I can’t prevent Allison from seeing other people.  That’s not fair.”

“I just don’t understand.  So you guys stopped fucking, and she decided she’d rather date Isaac instead?

“Yes, but that makes it sound less complicated than it actually is.”

“Then fill me in,” Stiles said, handing Scott another beer.

“Stiles, I haven’t even finished my first one,” Scott said, taking the beer

“Yeah, I know.  But I thought this might expedite the process.”

“You don’t need to get me drunk.” Scott put the beer back down on the table.  “We stopped sleeping together because we finally figured out we aren’t the same people we were back then.  And we’ve been pretending like we are.  We stuck to the physical stuff, which was great.  The sex was even better,” Scott said, trailing off as he smiled.

Stiles coughed loudly.

“Uh, right.” Scott said, looking sheepish. “Eventually it was an even split between the sex stuff and just hanging out.  And, I don’t know what it was like for her.  But I got to meet her all over again.  It was love at first sight the first time, and she will always manage to take my breath away.  But the more I got to learn about the new her, the more I started falling for her and not like in high school.  I told her I wanted to be friends.  We were never friends, and I need to get to know her as a person.

“You have changed,” Stiles said.  “That was actually a really mature decision.  Where does Isaac fit in?”

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed, and he took a long sip of his beer.  “I don’t know the details. Lydia would only tell me so much, and Isaac refuses to look at me when Allison comes up. All I know is that Allison and Lydia were out drinking and ran into Isaac.  Allison had been looking for a good time, I guess and led to things between her and Isaac.”

“Things?” Stiles interrupted. “Like one night stand things?”

Scott shook his head.  “The way Lydia described it, I couldn’t be sure if they had sex or just made out at the bar.  It came out that we weren’t – that Allison wasn’t seeing me.  The next day, Isaac asked if he could take her out on a date. I know they went on one a month or so ago.   I just don’t know if they’ve stopped seeing each other or are just keeping it from me.”

“I’ll find out,” Stiles promised, thinking of calling Allison.  They had barely talked since she had moved back to Beacon Hills.  He didn’t even know she had a popular blog or had dated Isaac.

“Thanks.”  Scott said.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, moodily drinking their beers.

Then Scott coughed and switched the subject. “So what was the one thing we can talk about?  Or not about?” Scott said frowning as he remembered their earlier conversation.

“Thing one is that Mr. Grumpy stood me up last night and instead I spent almost twenty minutes with Derek Hale.”

Scott frowned.  “Wait. Is Mr. Grumpy thing one or thing two?”

Stiles sighed and opened a bottle of beer. “He’s thing one, which we can discuss. Or I can bitch about all day as we try to make this weekend better with shitty movies and video games.”

“Okay.”  Scott said looking confused.  “What does Derek have to do with anything?”

“Derek showed up at the diner, and thought it was a good idea to sit with me while I waited for Mr. Grumpy.”

Scott was silent for a minute and then – “Maybe Mr. Grumpy came in while Derek was sitting with you and freaked out and left! You just got to talk to him dude, I’m sure it was all just a misunderstanding.”

Stiles took in his friend’s bright smile and optimistic face.  “Sorry, man. Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t remember anyone else coming in while Derek was sitting with me, and Mr. Grumpy hasn’t texted me back since that night.”

“When did you text him?”

“After I got home.  I just said that I had missed him at the diner and hoped he hadn’t gotten lost.”

“No response?”

Stiles glanced down at his phone and shook his head.

“Bummer,” Scott murmured.  “How about we leave the shitty movies for when we’re too tired to keep our eyes opened or when we need to eat?  We should do some game playing that requires some major focus,” Scott said as he started digging through the games.

Stiles smiled.  “Love you, man.”

Scott smiled back.  “Halo or Fifa?”

Stiles huffed.  “The only reason I own Fifa is because you bought it. We’re playing Halo.”

* * *

 

Stiles’ massive hangover was what woke him up the following morning.  At one point last night, Stiles had decided that hard liquor would be a good idea. Mixing whiskey and beer didn’t always go well.  Stiles stumbled his way over Scott’s body on the floor to the bathroom and emptied his stomach. He slowly drank a bottle of water and some took some ibprophen before he made his way back to bed. As he checked his phone for the time, he saw he had four new text messages.  All from Mr. Grumpy.  Stiles smiled and fell back asleep clutching his phone.

 Stiles woke up hours later and almost hangover free. He then remembered the text messages that he had left on his phone, and quickly pulled them up.

Mr. Grumpy  
 **I know you’re probably mad at me but I’m sorry  
** **Not that you should forgive me.  I don’t have any excuse.  
** **The best I can tell you is that I was scared.  Nervous. I know that probably doesn’t mean anything to you right now, but it’s all I can say.  
** **I hope you can forgive me.**

_Of course I can forgive you_ , Stiles thought sadly, _I love you_.  The only thing that was missing was the mention of meeting again. But, Stiles thought, as he typed out a response, he was the one that chickened out the first time. Mr. Grumpy deserved a chance to chicken out too.  Maybe the next time, whenever it would be, would be the charm. 

Stiles  
 **Duh, I forgive you.  You’re the one that missed out the best diner in town!  
** **I’ll talk to you later though.  I have to visit my dad night.**

Stiles sat in his childhood home with containers of his and his dad’s favorite Chinese food, waiting for his dad to get home from work. 

“Stiles?”  He heard his dad call out as he opened the garage door.

“Hey, Dad,”

The Sheriff walked into the kitchen and pulled his coat off.

“What’s this?”  he asked, frowning.  “Did I forget we made dinner plans?”

Stiles shook his head.  “Nope.”

“Not that I don’t love free Chinese food, son, but what’s the occasion?”

Stiles avoided his father’s eyes and turned towards the food instead.  “Just needed to talk to you.  Look, I even got those crab ragoons you like.”

The Sheriff narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t let me order those since you were twelve.”

Stiles bit his lip, but didn’t respond. He pulled the ragoon container over and opened them to show his father.

“This isn’t a life or death situation, is it?” the sheriff asked.

Stiles shook his head.

“Then, I’m going to change, and then we can eat. You can go ahead a pull out a couple of beers out of the fridge.”  The Sheriff quickly glanced over the cartons on the table.  “Might as well grabs some napkins and silverware, too.” He added before he headed to his bedroom.

Stiles dutifully gathered the requested items and placed them carefully on the table.  He eyed the second beer that he had put down, and decided to grab a glass of water for himself.  He was going to need the beer later, but he was too nervous to even bother drinking it now. Stiles had used alcohol as liquid courage multiple times in his life before, but tonight the thought of it just made him feel queasy.     

His dad came down a few minutes later in a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt.  “I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a date with Melissa tonight.”

Stiles jerked his head up from his container of pork-fried rice that he had been pushing around with a fork, not really feeling like eating.  “You’ve been dating Melissa?”

“I didn’t say that,” the Sheriff replied, sitting down and grabbing the container of Kung Fu Chicken.

“You _implied_ it.” Stiles accused.

The Sheriff only shrugged.  “How about this.  I’ll catch up with the good news after we go over whatever news has you bringing a small Chinese buffet to my house.”

Any excitement that Stiles had felt at the thought of his dad and Melissa finally going out on a date evaporated. “I’m not sure if we’re going to want to talk about that afterwards,” He admitted.  He wanted his dad to be happy, especially if that meant he was being happy with Melissa, but to talk about such good things after talking about his mom and other depressing things was just going to make the bad news seem worse.

“Oh.  I guess I don’t really have anything to tell.” The Sheriff said.

Stiles huffed as he picked the container of fried rice back up and began picking through it.  “Dad, seriously.  Are you and Melissa finally dating?”

“Not really.”

“How can you not really be dating? How does that even work?” Stiles demanded.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes.  “I don’t know, Stiles.  How does that work between you and your Mr. Grumpy?”

Stiles winced, thinking about how he was stood up only two nights ago.  Even though he and Mr. Grumpy were back to talking together they weren’t any further along in the relationship stages of life.  “It doesn’t,” he muttered.

The Sheriff eyes softened.  “Is that what this is about?”

Stiles snorted.  “Why would I bring you food that you shouldn’t be eating to talk about Mr. Grumpy?”  He looked at his dad to find him looking at Stiles perplexed as he tried to figure out the puzzle.

“Dad, just be straight about what’s going on with you and Melissa and then I’ll,” he waved his hand, “I’ll tell you about the other stuff.”

“I’m not really sure what’s going on with me and Melissa.  It’s not unusual for us to. . enjoy each other’s company, but it's been happening a lot, and it’s different.”

“Good different or oh god this relationship is going to burn to the ground?”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes and smiled. “Good different.”

“Well, you know what they say, Pops. Slow and steady wins the race.”

“Unless you're too slow and you miss the guy completely,” the Sheriff said pointedly.

“This isn’t about Mr. Grumpy,” Stiles grumbled.

“Then what is it about?”

Stiles put the container of food down and closed his eyes and he forced himself to get the words out.

“I’m going to close the shop.”

With his eyes still shut, Stiles could hear his dad put down his container and his fork before he said anything.

“Are you okay with that?”

“Me?”  Stiles said, finally opening his eyes.  “Are you?”  He was surprised to see his dad smiling.  It was a sad-looking smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Stiles, I’ve been telling you for months that it’s okay.  And that your mother would be okay with it.  That she would still be proud of you.”  There Sheriff leaned forward to be closer to Stiles.  “I’m not concerned about the shop.  I’m concerned with you. Are you okay with this?”

“No, but I don’t have much of a choice.”

“You always have a choice.  You’re not bankrupt, are you?”

Stiles sighed.  “No,” he admitted.

“Then why are you deciding to close the shop?”

Stiles frowned as he thought about it. “Because we might be soon.”

The Sheriff chuckled softly. “Knowing you and the group of people you’re working with, I don’t think you’d ever let that happen.   You guys could probably manage to keep it afloat for the rest of your life, if you wanted to.”

Stiles cringed.  “But I don’t,” Stiles said automatically at the thought of fighting every day for the rest of his life to keep the shop open, and his own honestly surprised him. “I didn’t mean that,” Stiles said weakly.

“Yes you did,” the Sheriff said.  He didn’t look mad or hurt by Stiles’ statement. “And it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not!” Stiles stood up in anger. “It’s not okay. I love that stupid store, and I don’t want to close it.  I don’t want to lose it, and I hate feeling like I not only let Mom down but that I’m going to lose her all over again.”

Stiles started pacing as he vented out his anger to his dad. “I hate that it’s going to close.  It’s a good fucking shop that fits perfectly in this stupid town and it’s not going to be able to stay.   The kids actually do love it.  Hell, the Laura _Hale’s_ kids love it, and I know they’re going to be disappointed when it closes.  They’re going to be disappointed in me.  And, I hate it.  It’s just not fair, and don’t say life isn’t fair, because I know it! I figured that out when Mom started getting sick and figured it out even more when she died. It’s just a good place. It was a home for not only me but Scott and Lydia.  It’s been home to other kids since then like the twins Aiden and Ethan or Garrett. And it won’t be for anyone else. And I hate it.”

Stiles voice cracked at the end of his outburst, and he came to a stop as the anger just ballooned till all he had left was disappointment “I hate deciding to close the store,” he said miserably as he tried to hold back tears.  “But, I can’t do it.  I can’t look at numbers and fight for the store for the rest of my life. I just can’t.  I would go insane.”

“I know.  And it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Stiles said, tears finally falling down his face.

The Sheriff got up and pulled Stiles into a hug. “Yes it is.  You did good, son.  You did good for your mom, but it's time to start your own life now.  You can finally go to college or the police academy you almost applied for.   Yes, I know about that,” he said as Stiles jerked in his grasp. “You deserve to do either of those things.  Your mom would want you to. It’ll be okay.”

Stiles waited until his tears weren’t steadily falling before pulling away from his dad.

“I’m still not okay with it,” he said shakily as he grabbed some napkins to wipe his tears.

“You will be,” the Sheriff assured him.

Stiles sniffed, but didn’t argue. He almost wished he had done this ages ago.  He felt a bit emotionally drained, but it was kinda what he needed.  He was pretty sure he would feel weird until he went to sleep, woke up and was ready to move forward.

“Can, I make a recommendation?” The Sheriff asked Stiles.

“Sure?”

“Don’t sell it.  We own that property; we’re not going to lose the money or anything. Just hold on to it for a bit. You might find an option out there that will surprise you."

Stiles blinked in surprise.  “Okay, I can do that.”

“Good,” the Sheriff said sitting back down and stuffing some food into his mouth.  “So, these crab ragoons are really good.”

“Good,” Stiles told him, “because it’s the last time you’re ever having them.”

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, but took a couple extra ragoons to intake before Stiles but his foot down.  When Stiles didn’t sit back down to eat dinner, the Sheriff looked up at him.

“Aren’t you hungry after all that? You’re the one that bought Chinese.”

“Yeah, no.  I’m not feeling it.”  Stiles said looking at the multitude of cartons on the table.  He might have over done it on the Chinese food.  “I think I’m just going to go upstairs and go to bed.”

“Here?”

“What?”

“You’re going to sleep here tonight?” The Sheriff asked around some fried rice.

“Uh, yeah.”  Stiles said putting his dishes in the sink and the beer back in the fridge. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.   I was just expecting you go to home.  Who knows, maybe sleeping in your childhood bed will do you some good.”

“Sure,” Stiles said as he headed towards the stairs. “It has nothing to do with how I’m feeling too lazy to go home.”

“Goodnight, Stiles.  We’ll grab breakfast in the morning, six am sharp.”

Stiles groaned from the stairs. “This is why I moved out,” he called down.  “All this forcing me to wake up at an early time.”

“Six AM, Stiles!” was the Sheriff’s only response.

Stiles fell asleep, and did feel much better in the morning.  In fact, he was even ready to go to Aunty Sally’s for breakfast at six am sharp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I may have lied. I decided to split the last chapter up into two. So there's another chapter after this one. The good news is that I'm posting them both at once, so end should be up by the time you're finished reading this one.

Stiles slowly told went through his friends and family to inform them he was going to be closing the store. He thought that telling his employees would go the worst, but it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Kira and Isaac (although Isaac would never admit it) were heartbroken.  But, Stiles told Scott to talk Isaac about becoming a children’s book author, and mentioned it to a couple of the editors he knew, to even the field.

Although Natalie had worked for A Fox’s Tale for practically nothing, and Stiles knew it wasn’t going to be a financial difficulty for her to lose her job, it didn’t mean that Stiles hadn’t gone to her personally and individually to break the news.  She had teared up when Stiles told her, and pulled him into a hug.

He told the McCalls over a Stilinski-McCall family dinner, during which Scott and Stiles paid special attention to the interactions between the Sheriff and Melissa.  They went over it play by play after the dinner.  Their touches were more deliberate and tactile. Scott and Stiles definitely thought it was date time for the two of them.

Melissa told him that she was proud of him, and knew he would do great in whatever he decided to pursue next. Scott tackled him in a bear hug and said, sorry over and over.  After Stiles reassured him he was all right, Scott said he could be a secretary at the vet clinic until he figured things out.  Stiles out right laughed at him, and told Scott that Deaton would kill him.

The Sheriff offered Stiles a job at the station while he figured out what he wanted to do next.  Stiles told him to remember that in a month or so, because he wasn’t going to be closing the down the shop tomorrow.  He had set the closing date for just over a month away, and still had a lot of things to figure out.  He also hinted that he was looking at colleges around the area.

Everyone was great about it – except Lydia. Stiles had arranged to meet her at their favorite coffee house, hoping she would be calmer in public. She had told him that she was disappointed in him for giving up and walked out in the middle of their coffee date.

It was a week since the last time she had spoken to him.  She hadn’t been by the store or returned any of his phone calls. 

Stiles was tired when he returned home. He used his keys to unlock his door and ended up locking it.  He sighed and rubbed his fingers over his eyes.  He could’ve sworn he locked it before left for work that morning.  He unlocked his door, walked a few steps and then stopped short. 

Lydia was standing in his family room with her arms crossed and tears falling down her face.  Stiles eyed and the three bottles of wine that were on the table.

“I’ll get the wine opener?” He asked.

Lydia’s eyebrows pointed up in a way that said, _obviously._

Stiles immediately went to the kitchen, dropped his stuff off on the counter, and grabbed the wine opener and two wine glasses.

Lydia didn’t say anything until they were both seated on the couch with two full glasses of Brewer-Clifton’s Pinot Noir.

For once, she didn’t look Stiles in the eye when she spoke.  “My mother and I have talked, and I,” she paused to take a sip of wine.  She swallowed and licked her lips before she continued, “I understand that you don’t want to continue living like you have. Constantly being on edge and stressed is not a desirable lifestyle.”

“You think?” Stiles muttered.

Lydia looked up at him and gave him a dirty look. “I’ve been out of touch because I wasn’t disappointed,” Her jaw was tight as she spoke.  It was obvious she would rather not have this conversation. “The shop was my second home too.”

Stiles sighed.  “I know, Lyds,” the not allowed nickname earned him another dirty glare. “I don’t _want_ to lose the store, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I-“ Lydia tried to start, but broke off when more tears ran down her cheeks.  “Damn it,” she muttered and then swallowed her entire glass of wine.  Stiles winced that was a lot of rich wine to drink at once. “I’m not trying to guilt you, I’m _trying_ to apologize.” Tears started to come faster and Stiles wasn’t sure what to do.  “I know how much the store meant to you and how much you loathe losing it.” She started full out crying at this point, and Stiles sat frozen, his arms out wide ready to swing into action if they need to. “And I’m sorry about your mom and that I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to help you.”  She finished with a row of sobs and then leaned her head against Stiles shoulder. Stiles put his glass down, and pulled her close. 

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered to her after a few minutes of rubbing her back. 

Moments later, she sat up and sniffed, “No, you’re right.  It’s the corrupt business system and politics in the United States that rely too much on capitalism and not enough about their own people.”

Stiles refilled her glass and handed it to her. He raised his glass, “To capitalism fucking us over.”

They both drank. 

“To the city for selling out our boutique charm for a fucking box store,” Lydia added.

They drank again.

“To the Hale’s coming back forty years too late,” Stiles said and then took a drink.

And so it continued, their tempers rising with each drink as they yelled at the world how fucked up it was until they finished the first bottle. 

Stiles angrily pulled the cork from the second bottle, flinging it as far as he could. 

“For the fucking system pitting us against each other, best friends,” Lydia yelled and then drank.

Stiles mood flipped a switch. He was drunk enough that he didn’t even realize that she blamed the system for them not speaking for the past week.  “I missed you,” He gave her puppy dog eyes.  “Let’s not do that again. I needed you.”

Lydia’s face softened as they clinked wine glasses and drank.  Then, she flung herself at him, giving him a hug.  They stumbled back a steps, but Stiles managed to keep the two of them upright. “I’m sorry,” she slurred. She looked up at him with wide eyes. “Did you fire everyone?”

Stiles nodded into her hair.  She smelled like strawberries.  It was weird, why did she smell like food? 

Lydia nudged him.  “Sad thing means drink.  They both drank.  “Poor Isaac,” she said frowning.

Stiles rolled his eyes but drank anyways. “Poor Kira.”

They drank again.

They finished the second bottle lamenting the poor, sad never to be used again decorations.

When they opened the last bottle, they were both laying on the floor.  It took twenty minutes to get the cork out of the bottle. 

“I miss your mom,” Lydia murmured into her glass. “She was the best,”

“The bestest mom,” Stiles agreed.

“Do you remember when she made me the Ariel costume?”

Stiles grinned.  “Scott and I were jealous.  We wanted costumes too.”

Lydia hiccupped.  “Scott wanted to be the dog.  What’s his name? The big shaggy one rather than the prince.”

“He would make a rather good prince, now.”

“Yeah,” Lydia sighed.  “He can be Prince Charming to Allison’s Snow White. Or Merida or something.”

“Wait, wait, wait!  What happened to Isaac?”

Lydia shook her head.  “Uh, huh.  I’m drunk.”

“Lydddddia,” Stiles whined, knocking her legs with his head.

Lydia started to pet his hair. “Nuh, huh.  We’re talking about your mom and how much we miss her.”

Stiles frowned.  “Oh, yeah.  I miss her so much,”

“I know.” 

They spent the last bottle of wine reminincing about times spent in the store causing them either to cry or laugh until they cried. Tears were shed either way.

The next morning had found them hung over with dried snot and crusty tears all over their faces.  Stiles thought it was worse than waking up to dried come. Lydia didn’t disagree (she didn’t really agree either, but Stiles ignored that).   

* * *

 

Stiles finally made a public statement about the end of A Fox’s Tale.  He had written a letter to the town, and the Beacon had agreed to publish it. He had thanked Beacon Hills for their support, but it was time for A Fox’s Tale to become a new story that would help the community in different ways.

Stiles wasn’t really sure what he had meant by that. He was just kinda spewing bullshit and thought that it sounded good and hopeful.  What the town would want to hear.  It wasn’t entirely surprising to find the store was packed after the announcement.  He received a phone call from what seemed to be every household in the town apologizing for letting the store down.

They decided to add extra Story Time with Stiles sessions and had extended the Sunday Brunch times for the final month. The bakeries were bickering so much about who was able to come the last four Sundays that Stiles told them they could all sell, each bakery just had to reduce their menu. Surprisingly, they had all agreed, so the store was going to be full of food on Sundays.  A Fox’s Tale was going to go out with a bang.

Stiles had just sat down on his rocking chair to start the After-School Story Time session when the front door opened and some stranglers walked in.   It was Derek with Jenny and Max.  Derek met his eyes and mouthed sorry.  Stiles wondered if he was saying sorry for the being late, again, or for the entire mess of A Fox’s Tale closing.  Stiles waited as Derek ushered the kids to the floor and they all settled in a seemingly comfortable pile of limbs.  Stiles couldn’t help but remember the first time that he had ever laid eyes on Derek.  The tall, built man with the heavy eyebrows that looked like it should make his face perpetually angry, but instead he was looking adoringly at Jenny and Max and let them push him around.  It had made Stiles’ heart jump a little, much like it was doing now.  Stiles realized, with a start, that he had spaced out, and Jenny, Max, and Derek, as well as the rest of the patrons, were all waiting for him.

Stiles smiled and told everyone that he was hoping to go through his and their favorites until the store closed, starting with _If You Give a Mouse a Cookie_. He pointed out the suggestion jar over by the bulletin boards, if they wanted to _suggest_ a specific book, but Stiles wasn’t making any promises. The kids all nodded enthusiastically and Stiles dove into _If You Give a Mouse a Cookie_  

* * *

Stiles chatted with a lot of children and parents after Story Time.  It was mostly small talk with the parents apologizing that the store was closing, and the children not really understanding what that meant.  They were anxious to go off and play with the toys, and Stiles was happy to let them.  He really didn’t need any more awkward small talk in his life.

He caught sight of what looked like Derek holding Jenny and Max back from rushing at Stiles.  Stiles frowned at him, and hoped Derek wasn’t going to rush off with the kids before he said hi.  Stiles actually enjoyed catching up with Jenny and Max.  Fortunately, they were still there when the crowd adjourned, so Stiles made his way over to where Jenny and Max were arguing over which books to suggest for Story Time.  Jenny wanted to write down _The Rainbow Fish_ and Max wanted _Where the Wild Things Are_.

“Why don’t you write both down?” Stiles suggested from behind them.

“Stiles!”  Jenny shrieked and threw herself at him.  Stiles bent down just in time to get her in a hug.

“Really?”  Max asked, wide-eyed as ever.  “We can put down both?”

Stiles laughed, and reached over Jenny to tousle the boy’s hair.  “Of course you can.” It didn’t hurt that Stiles was already planning to be reading both of those classics before the month was out.

Stiles looked up to see Derek looking down at them kinda shell-shocked.

“Hi,” Stiles said to jerk Derek out of it.   It didn’t really work like he had hoped.  Derek recognized that Stiles had spoken to him by responding hi back, but he looked even more confused than before.  Stiles didn’t have time to worry about it, however, because Jenny was demanding his attention.

“Everyone’s saying that A Fox’s Tales is going to close, Stiles!”  Jenny said in distress.

“That’s because it is, sweetie,” Stiles told her.

Jenny’s face fell.  “You mean they weren’t just being mean to me?” She pouted. “It’s true?”

Stiles gave her a sad smile.  “I’m afraid so.”

“What does that mean?”  Max asked.  “We can’t come after school?  Only before?”

Stiles heard Derek sigh and he kneeled down till he was level with the rest of the group.  “We talked about this, you guys.  We won’t be able to come here anymore.”

“Never?”  Max asked

Derek shook his head, and Jenny whined out, “But whyyyyyyy?”

Stiles and Derek caught each other’s eye for a second, and both quickly looked away.

“You’re going to have to be mad at me,” Derek told her. “It’s my fault.”

Jenny frowned and crossed her arms. “What did you do, Uncle Derek?” she demanded.

Now, Stiles thought seeing Derek get hurt would be getting even for all the pain he’s been put through in the past year, but hearing Derek take the blame (although it was partially his fault), and have Jenny be mad at him, just wasn’t right.  Jenny had just expanded her family; she shouldn’t have to find a reason to hate him already.

“Don’t listen to him, Jenny,” Stiles said before Derek could respond.  Derek shot him a confused look, and Stiles ignored it.  “It’s because things change.  Like Laura marrying your dad and becoming your mom or Hale’s Wolftastic Books coming to town.  You like those changes, don’t you?”

Both Jenny and Max nodded.

“Well, those were good changes. Bad changes happen too, and this is one of them.  I know it’s not fair,” Stiles explained gently, “But that’s what life is.  So the store’s going to close, but we’re going to have some fun before does.  Alright? I’ve better see your faces for the next four Sundays, understand?”

“Yeah,” Jenny said as Max nodded. “Uncle Derek will bring us. Won’t you, Uncle Derek?”

Derek glanced over at Stiles. “Only if that’s okay with Stiles.”

Stiles shrugged and told Jenny, “You get whoever you want to bring you.  Your mom, dad, or Derek.”

“Okay.”   She looked at Derek.  “Can we go look at the books now?”

Derek smiled fondly. “Go ahead, you two.”

Derek and Stiles watched as they raced to different aisles, obviously knowing what they were looking for.  Stiles glanced at Derek as they both stood up. He didn’t want Jenny to hate him, but he was perfectly free to hate the man himself.  Derek _wasn’t_ wrong. He was the cause of the store closing. Mostly.  No, Stiles, reminded himself, he wasn’t mad because Derek worked at Hale’s Wolftastic Books, he was mad because Derek was an ass. Derek lied to him and played him like a fool the first time they met, and then sneered at Stiles’ attempt to preserve his mother’s memory.

Stiles crossed his arms angrily as he thought about it, and then with the conversation he had with Mr. Grumpy that night. He had hoped to be forgiven. Maybe Derek deserved some sort of second chance, if he worked for it, but he wasn’t going to offer up forgiveness for that night.

Derek winced as Stiles turned his angry eyes on him. “I, uh, wanted to apologize.”

Stiles' eyebrows rose. He could spend half an hour listing what Derek Hale could be apologizing to him for.

“It was never my intention to force your shop to close,” Derek told him.  Stiles snorted.

“It wasn’t.  Entirely.”   Derek floundered, trying to talk and then groaned.  “We didn’t want the competition, but it _wasn’t_ our intention to close your shop.  And, now.”  Derek paused as he glanced towards his niece and nephew. “Now, none of us want it to close.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and started walking to the register.  “That’s just because you want to keep the kids on your side.”

“That’s not true,” Derek argued with him.  “This place is great.  It’s exactly the type of place my mom wanted to create when she opened Hale’s Wolftastic Books. It’s a great part of the community and a home for the kids.”

“So you’re saying that we’re the same as Hale’s Wolftastic Books?” Stiles asked skeptically.

“Yes! No.  I mean no.” Derek sighed and rubbed his hand across his scruff. Stiles’ mind wondered what that scruff would feel against his face, but he shook his head and ignored it.

“It’s similar to the very first store that Mom opened up,” Derek told him.  “In the end, she decided to take the commercial path and a lot of community stuff disappeared. She’s been trying to build it back up lately.  It was one of the selling points of opening up a store in Beacon Hills.”

“Ok.  I don’t really care,” Stiles said, pulling some paperwork out of his office and getting to work on it at the register, hoping it would give Derek the clue that he really wasn’t interested in continuing the conversation.

“I just –“ Derek tried again a few minutes later.

Stiles looked up from his work and said, “You what, Derek?  What do you want me to say? I accept your apology? Fine.  I don’t blame you for the store closing.  Happy?”

Derek looked at Stiles closely, obviously confused.   “But you blame me for other things?” he asked slowly.

Stiles smirked and went back to his paperwork.

“Can I ask you a question?”  Derek asked

“No,” Stiles said, not looking back up this time.

“What are you planning to do with everything? Do a going out of business sale and get rid of everything?”

“Nope,” Stiles said, still not looking up.

“Why?  Where are you going to put everything?  It can’t all fit in your house, and seems silly to put everything else in storage.”

Stiles thunked his head against the counter. “Why me,” he mumbled.

Controlling his breathing, he straightened back up and looked Derek in the eye.  “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t decided what I want to do with everything.  I own the building, so I don’t have to pay rent for the space.  So, it’s going to stay here until I can figure out what to do with it.  Capisce?”

Derek nodded his head, and Stiles went back to his work.

“Can I make a suggestion?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said shooting up.  “I now know how my parents felt when I was a kid.  Yeah, that’s right.  I was _that_ kid as a child.  The one that would never shut up and stop talking.  I always had to ask question after question and went through the why phrase.  I must have driven them insane.  Can’t you tell that I’m trying to _work?_ ”

“Isn’t your job to pay attention the customers?” Derek said, awkward attitude disappearing as he starting snarking back. “You’re the only one on the store front, and I have questions about the store.”

“Well, it’s my store so I’m not going to get fired, and we’re already going out of business so I think pissing a few people off isn't going to really affect anything.”

“Fine.  You can piss me off, but I think you can turn this place into a daycare.”

“I- what?”

Derek shrugged and started to look sheepish again. “A daycare.  I mean from what I’ve heard, it’s what some people were using this place for anyways.  It’s already set up to be one, and Beacon Hills doesn’t have an official day care. Could still open the place up on Sundays for the Farmer’s Market and everything.

Stiles jaw drops open in surprise. “Kira’s an early childhood education major.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay?”

“She’s one of my employees that’s going to be unemployed soon.  She would be awesome for that.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, eyeing him suspiciously. “That’s actually a good idea.”

Derek shrugs.  “It’s the least I can do.”

They stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before Derek coughed. “So, what are _you_ doing after this?  Do you stay with the building or. . .”

Stiles shrugged, feeling uncomfortable sharing this information that wasn’t his family.  “Not.  I think I’m going back to school.”

Derek nodded.

“Don’t think it’s a little late in the game?” Stiles accused.

Derek shook his head.  “It’s never too late to learn.”

Stiles laughed, surprising him. “Wow, that is the clichest thing to say.”

“It’s true,” Derek surly muttered. “I might even. . .”

“You might what?” Stiles prompted.

Derek scratched at his scruff. “I might even need to learn new things soon.  Sometimes being part of a family business is – difficult.”

Stiles scrutinized Derek, not entirely sure what he meant.

Just then, Jenny and Max then ran up to the counter dumping a grand total of fifteen books down.  They both smiled angelically up at the adults.

“You can each have one,” Derek told them.

Jenny broke out the puppy dog eyes and the pouty lip. She then elbowed Max who did the same.

Derek groaned and shielded his eyes. “Your parents will kill me if I bring back that many books.”

“Please, Uncle Derek?” Jenny whined.

Stiles snorted as he saw Derek’s reserve cracking as Derek looked back down to his niece.  But, his snort seemed to jolt Derek out of the trance of the cuteness of the children.  “Just one a piece or none at all **.”**

They both groan but pull out one book out of the pile on the counter and hand them to Derek who then handed them to Stiles. Derek looked down at the mess at the counter and started gathering the books and handing them back to the kids. “Since you guys were overzealous, we’re going to be put back the books we are no longer getting. Alright?”

Jenny and Max both nod.

“And if you don’t know where you got the books, you ask. Got it?"

“Yes, Uncle Derek,” Jenny responded and the two of them slowly trudged back to the book aisles to put the books away.

“Someone’s getting a shell,” Stiles muttered as he rang the books up.

“What?” Derek asked him.

“Nothing.  You’re just toughening up.  Not giving in as easily as you were the first time you guys came in here.”

Derek smiled.  “You remember that?”

“Uh.  No. Why would I?”  Stiles lied.  “Look, here are your books and your change.  Looks like Jenny and Max are done.  Time for you to leave, now!” He finished, falsely bright.

Derek dropped his change in the tip jar and grabbed the bag.  “See you around, Stiles,” he said, and then turned towards the kids.  “C’mon you two, time to go.”

Stiles watched as Max asked for a piggy-back ride, and Derek let him climb onto his back as the left the store.

His run-ins with Derek always left him feeling confused, now more than ever.  How could someone who had practically driven his life into the ground be so good and adorable with kids?  And the idea of turning the store into a daycare wasn’t a bad one, as long as Stiles didn’t have to run it. He decided to look more into later, and to bring it up with Kira. 

* * *

 Bailey woke Derek up extra early this morning and instead of going back to sleep for the extra fifteen minutes, Derek decided to just get ready for work.  This meant that he was standing in his favorite coffee shop fifteen minutes earlier than normal. He spied Scar Man, the blonde, curly haired guy that he drank coffee with in the morning, at a table with a tan dark-haired guy who looked familiar, but Derek’s tired eyes couldn’t connect him to the memory.

Derek ordered his coffee and made his way over to their table.  Usually, both he and Scarf Man would order coffee at the same time and then make grumpy conversation by the front windows as they waited for the caffeine to kick in. As Derek looked at his friend’s face, Derek was considering him his friend, even if he didn’t know the guy’s name, Derek guessed that was usually his second cup of coffee of the day. He looked like he was still asleep as he drank his very large coffee at the table.

“Morning,” Derek grunted as he got nearer to their table.

The guy he didn’t know, spun around with a large grin and started to say “Good Morning” but it died halfway through when he saw it was Derek.  His smile also disappeared and looked over to his friend in confusion.

His friend squinted up at Derek and nodded. “Morning.”

Derek watched as he practically chugged the rests of his coffee cup and got up to get more.

Derek glanced down at his own small coffee. It was just enough help get him kick started in the morning.  He couldn’t imagine downing that much caffeine.

“How much do you usually drink?” he asked.

Scarf Man just shrugged and turned to the cashier to order more.

The dark-haired one was still looking perplexed, but answered Derek’s question anyways. “He normally goes through three cups in the morning.  How do you know Isaac?”

Uh, that was the guy’s name.  Isaac.

Derek finished a swallow of his own hot coffee and let it warm his way down his body before he answered.  “Morning coffee buddies.”

The guy narrowed his eyes.  “What do you two normally talk about?”

Derek raised his eyebrow’s the guy’s suspicious attitude.  “Shitty mornings. Why?”

“You sure you don’t talk business? Spy your way into another part of his life?”

Derek repeated the sentence a couple times in his head, waiting for it to make sense, but it never did.  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

That’s when Isaac got back, already halfway through another cup of coffee and he looked slightly more alert. His friend looked back over to him, and as Isaac sat down he asked, “Dude, you didn’t tell me you’re friends with Derek Hale.”

Isaac looked at Scott like he either had too much caffeine or none at all.  “I’m not.”

Scott looked up to Derek, and Isaac followed his gaze.

 “I’m Derek,” he told Isaac.  “You’re apparently Isaac.”

Isaac blinked at him a few times, and Derek waited for the information to compute to his brain.

“Well, shit,” he finally breathed out. And then he mumbled out something about making friends with the enemy that Derek couldn’t quite make out.

“The enemy?”  Derek asked.  “I’m just the enemy because I work for a chain store?”

The friend looked between Isaac and Derek a few times, before he spoke up.  “Wait, you didn’t know who you were?”  He looked back up at Derek.  “And you still don’t know?”

Derek frowned at the statement. It was too early for something like this.  It was why Isaac and he made good coffee buddies.  They didn’t actually try to talk or think about anything, just grumble a little bit until they were awake enough to take on the rest of the world.

“No,” Derek finally grumbled in reply.

“Then, I should introduce you,” the friend said, looking just a little too excited for Derek’s liking.

“Isaac, this is Derek Hale.   Aka one of the owners of the Hale’s Wolftastic Books and the reason A Fox’s Tale has been struggling to stay afloat and finally decided to close its doors and will be leaving its employees without any work.”

Derek groaned internally.  He felt bad enough for A Fox’s Tale closing for so many reasons. He wasn’t happy about it, and he wanted to shake the town’s people that lectured him about it during the day. To hear it before nine am was almost more than Derek could bear.

“Derek,” Scott continued.  “This is Isaac Lahey.  He’s my best friend from college and has been working at A Fox’s Tale as Stile’s least favorite but top three best employees since after college.

“Oh,” Was all Derek could manage.  That was unexpected.  It was the second time in his life that he had unknowingly befriended an A Fox’s Tale employee.       

The friend stood up and held out his hand. “I’m Scott McCall. Stiles’ best friend." 

_That_ was why Scott looked so familiar.  He had seen him out with Stiles a lot.  And, once Derek thought about it, he was pretty sure he was one of the vet’s at the clinic Derek took Bailey.  He was the one that gave him dark looks when he learned his name.

Derek looked down from the hand to Scott to the hand, again.  He really didn’t think Scott was going to pull anything or try to beat him up, but Derek couldn’t figure out why he was offering a handshake.  Derek put his coffee cup down before he met Scott’s hand for a very firm handshake.

“You caused a lot of chaos and pain in our lives, lately,” Scott told him.

“I know, and I apologized for it. I don’t want the shop to close.”

Scott opened up his mouth in surprise. “You don’t?”

Derek shook his head.  “It – it hurts me more than you know.  My niece and nephew love that place and are heartbroken that it’s closing.  It’s also just a great place.  It’s everything my mom wanted A Fox’s Tale to be when she was a kid, and it wasn’t. It’s whimsical and beautiful. It’s also –“ Derek trailed off. It was also Smartass’ home. _Stiles'_ home.  A home that Derek had helped destroy and it broke his heart.  “I know it means a lot to people, and I never meant to destroy that.”

Scott and Isaac gaped up at him.

“I guess if I tell you I wrote one of the editorial letters, you won’t be too angry,” Isaac finally said.

Derek shook his head.  “No.  I almost wish I had done something.  And, I’m sorry to you as well.  I’m sorry that you have to lose your job because of the actions of Hale’s Wofltastic Books.”

“And you’ve said all this to Stiles?” Scott finally asked, still sounding incredulous.  “You apologized?”

Derek nodded.  “I know it doesn’t fix anything.”

Scott sat in wonder, as he thought about Derek’s apology.  “Did you apologize for _everything_?”

Derek looked at Scott in surprise. When he brought Jenny and Max to the store last week and apologized to Stiles, he had implied that there were things Stiles was still mad at him for, Derek just wasn’t sure what it was.

“I know I’m missing a few things,” he finally admitted.

“Would you apologize for them, once you remember them?”

“Yes,” Derek replied automatically. He would apologize for anything, if it meant getting Stiles to like him as him, and not just Mr. Grumpy.

Scott and Isaac both looked surprised at Derek’s quick response.

“I don’t want him to hate me,” Derek mumbled as an explanation.

Scott’s entire face changed, as he looked Derek over. “Why?”

Derek stumbled around for words, but couldn’t find any that would make any sense.  All he could think about was Smartass and how much he loved him.  How he was so attracted to Stiles and all he wanted to do was to put his mouth all over him.  How they were actually the same person, and it was all too much for Derek to handle. Belatedly, Derek realized that he had started to blush, which only caused him to get redder.

Scott and Isaac both looked at him knowingly.

“Maybe you’re not too bad of a guy after all,” Scott said, looking at him critically.  Derek had the feeling he was on his last strike, and if he blew it, he was out.

Isaac suddenly grinned.  “Hey, Derek.  Scott was just telling me that Stiles came down a cold or flu or something. I wasn’t really paying attention. But, he’s home sick. Maybe you want to stop by to make sure he feels better.”

Scott shot Isaac a dirty look, and Isaac just grinned wickedly.  “He lives in the North Hilltop complex, apartment 18B.”

“Uh, okay,” Derek said, looking at Scott for social cues, but he was too busy glaring at Isaac.  “I think I’m going to go. It was. . .nice to meet the two of you.”

As Derek left, he heard Scott hiss to Isaac, “Dude, you know Stiles won’t appreciate Derek showing up at his apartment, even if he is trying to apologize.”

“I know, isn’t it great?”  Isaac replied gleefully.

Derek shook his head and exited the coffee shop, and headed to work, leaving thoughts of Stiles behind him.

Or at least, he tried to. 

* * *

 

Derek was supposed to be joining Boyd and Erica for lunch that today, but he was still in his office, frowning at his phone. He didn’t feel right going over to Stiles’ to check if he was okay, so he did the next best thing and texted Smartass how he was doing.  It was three hours later after he had sent the text, and Smartass still hadn’t responded.

Things had been fine between them though; nothing weird or anything since Derek stood him up on their date, so Derek didn’t think Stiles was ignoring him, which made him worried.  If he wasn’t ignoring Derek, then was he so sick that he couldn’t text?  Stiles _always_ texted him back.  The only time Derek could remember it coming to an unexpected halt was after Stiles thought someone was stalking him, and _oh_.

Derek groaned as he thought about that night. That was the same night he found Stiles in his flipped over jeep.  He had been trying to talk to Stiles at the grocery store, but then he had left, so Derek dropped it.  It was when Derek went to leave that he found Stiles' text and didn’t get a response. It was once Derek started making his way home that he found Stiles in his overturned jeep.

Two alarming things made itself clear in Derek’s head. One, Stiles had thought Derek to be stalking him, which was going to make earning Stiles trust even more difficult than he thought.  And two, if the last time Stiles didn’t text him back was because he was in a car accident, how bad were things now.

Derek stood up in a hurry and grabbed his jacket. He needed to get over there and check on Stiles _now._

He opened up his office door and found Erica and Boyd.

“Oh, good.  You’re ready to go.  I’m starving, and we’re going to the Corner Café.”  Erica said immediately turning away and heading down the stairs, and Derek rushed after her.

Boyd side-eyed him.  “Are you alright, man?”

Derek shook his head.  “Stiles.  He isn’t answering my texts.  The last time was a car accident.  Isaac said he’s sick. I’m not going to lunch. I have to see him.”

“Derek, you don’t even know where he lives.” Boyd tried reminding him gently.

“Isaac told me.  Hilltop apartments.  The North one.  16 – no, 18. 18B.”

Derek rushed ahead of Erica as they exited the building and to his car.

“Not that I have any objection to you surprising your lover boy,” Erica said.  “But he still doesn’t know who you are yet.”

Derek glared at her as he opened his front door. “Your point?”

“You might want to show up with a reason why you’re there.  Or bring him something, if you’re trying to,” she flashed him a grin with way too many teeth, “ _woo_ him.”

Derek growled and took off in his car.

He stopped at the Corner Café for their famously delicious bread bowl soups before he made his way to the North Hilltop apartments. 

* * *

 

Stiles woke up the sound of his buzzer ringing.

He groaned from under his pile of blankets on the sofa. He forced his eyes open and unceremoniously dumped all his blankets on the ground and shuffled over to the buzzer by the front door.

“Sick. Go away,” Stiles croaked into the box.

“I brought you some soup,” came the voice on the other end of the buzzer.

Stiles frowned.  It was definitely a male voice, but it wasn’t Scott or his father. It almost sounded like Derek, but he was probably just delirious.

“I’m losing it,” he muttered, unaware that he was still holding down the speaker button.

“Stiles?  Are you going to buzz me in?”

Stiles just blinked at the buzzer. It did sound an awfully lot like Derek Hale, and he didn’t think he was dreaming.  He felt too damn miserable like that.  He couldn’t even manage to breathe through his nose, for goodness sake.

Stiles waited to see if he would talk to the speaker again, but after a minute there wasn’t a response, so Stiles headed back over to the sofa until he heard a knock on the door.

He sighed and turned around, and went back to the door.

“Crazy, yes or no?” he breathed out as he opened the door, half expecting for no one to be on the other side. Instead, Derek Hale stood at his front door.

“Not crazy,” Stiles said.

Derek. . .didn’t look good.  Well, Derek looked _good_. He always looked good, especially in business wear, which Stiles didn’t see Derek in very often. He normally saw him outside his work hours.  Everything just fit him so well. No, Derek almost looked a little. . .frantic.  He had some crazy eyes going on and his stress lines were more visible than normal. He appeared to loosen up a little when he saw Stiles, but he was looking at Stiles like he was going to fall over or something, which, once Stiles thought about it, he probably did.

He hadn’t showered in a couple days, which was gross when he wasn’t sick.  As it was, he had layers of sweat, snot, and tears everywhere.  His hair must be some greasy mess, and he was still having trouble breathing. Not to mention he was wearing his holey pair of pajama bottoms and an old t-shirt of his dad’s.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked.

Derek held up a bag from the Corner Café.“I brought soup.” 

And, yum, their soup was really good. Stiles wasn’t about to turn down free food and really hoped that he had brought one of their bread bowls.

Stiles turned around and led the way into his apartment, deliberately going straight to the kitchen and avoiding the den, where he had left dirty dishes and accumulated mounds of dirty tissues.

“Why did you bring soup?”  Stiles sniffed out.

“Isaac and Scott told me you were sick.”

Stiles turned around, dumbfounded.  “You were talking to Scott and Isaac?”

Derek nodded.  “Isaac and I usually chat when I get coffee in the mornings. I got there early today, so Scott was still there.”

“Traitor,” Stiles coughed out, thinking of Isaac.

“Scott accused me of spying.  I didn’t know Isaac worked for you until today.” Derek put the bag down on the table and pulled out a soup container, a bread bowl, a plastic spoon, and a copious amount of napkins.

Stiles sighed, not really caring too much. He and Isaac would continue on with the frenemies rapport, and A Fox’s Tale was still closing.

Derek came over to his side and pulled out a chair. “Here,” he said, motioning to Stiles to sit down.

Stiles looked at Derek in surprise, but collapsed down into the chair anyways, and felt Derek _lift_ the entire chair up and closer to the table.  That must be impressive to dates.

“So what, they just told you I was sick and where I lived, and you decided to bring me soup?” Stiles said suspiciously, because there was no way Derek knew where he lived.

“Pretty much.  At least Isaac did.  Scott didn’t seem to think it was a good idea.” Derek set the soup inside of the bread bowl, and pulled a clean plate from an open cabinet to put it on. He then served it to Stiles.

“But you still decided to come anyways?”

Stiles watched in fascination as the tops of Derek’s ears turned red.  Derek turned away and faced Stiles’ kitchen cabinets. “Where do you keep your cups?”

“Second shelf on the left.”

While Derek poured Stiles a glass of water, Stiles dove into his soup.  It was hot and delicious. Or at least Stiles assumed it was delicious, he couldn’t really taste anything.  But feel nice and hot in his mouth and warmed his entire body as he swallowed.  His nose promptly started to drip and he scrambled for the napkins.

Derek set down the glass of water.“Here.”

“Thanks,” Stiles mumbled as he tried to hide the now-gross napkins.

Derek rolled his eyes and swatted Stiles away from hiding them underneath his legs.  “I’ll get the garbage can.  Where is it?”

“Underneath the sink,” Stiles replied.  He watched, captivated, as Derek got the wastebasket and brought it up to Stiles, which he then dropped his used napkins into.  Derek placed a couple of other trash items laying around the kitchen into the bin, and then left the room with it.  Stiles watched for a few seconds and then went back to the soup.

By the time Derek had come back – with the garbage bin overflowing with used tissues, Stiles had finished the soup and even part of the bread bowl.  It was probably the most food Stiles had eaten in the past two days.  The glass of water, however, was untouched.

“God, that soup was magical.  I can practically breathe through my nose now,” Stiles said, leaning back in his chair. He closed his mouth and inhaled, managed maybe half a lung's worth of breath before he had to open his mouth to actually breathe.  Derek just laughed at him from where he was washing his hands.

“The water will help too, you know,” Derek told him.

Stiles scowled, but grabbed the water anyways and headed to the den.  If Derek had seen (and apparently cleaned) the den anyways, there was no reason not to hang out in the comfier room.  Stiles found his spot back on the couch, placed his cup of water on the table in front of him, and gathered his blankets on the floor to make himself a new nest.

“Have you sat here all day?” Derek asked.

Stiles raised his eyebrows at his the judgment in his voice.  “I’m sick and fell asleep after I attempted to go to work this morning.  Sleep is good for the sick.  It helps promote. . .healthy stuff.” 

“I didn’t mean.  I just meant.”  Derek sighed. “You’re right. It’s a good thing you were asleep.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed forcefully, narrowing his eyes at Derek as if challenging him to disagree again, but Derek didn’t say a word.  Instead, he sat down on the other side of the sofa and picked up the book that Stiles had left on the coffee table.  It was _Pride and Prejudice._ Again.

“Still haven’t finished it?” Derek asked him.

“No.” Stiles said.  “I fell asleep reading it last night.  Tried to read instead of watch TV.  Doesn’t work so well when you’re sick.”

“Mmmm,” Derek replied, leafing through the book.  “Where did you leave off?”

“I remember the Lady woman arriving at the house to yell at Lizzie.  I just don’t remember what she said.”

“How about I’ll read it to you,” Derek said, flipping to the right page, “and you can just listen and then fall asleep."

“You’ll what?”

Derek suddenly turned hesitant and went to put the book down. “Unless you don’t want me to.  I – I can leave.  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Stiles looked at Derek, bewildered.  “Derek, why are you here?”

Derek looked down at his hands and took a few minutes to respond.  “I apologized, and I know that doesn’t fix everything.  I also know I’m missing something.”

“Clearly,” Stiles muttered darkly, thinking of his mom.

“I haven’t really figured out what that is yet.”

Stiles watched as Derek fumbled around with the book, thinking about it.

“Scott accused me of using Isaac to spy this morning,” Derek said slowly. “You never did let me apologize for that.”

“Let you apologize?” Stiles exclaimed.

“Not that it’s your fault,” Derek said hurriedly. “I know you were mad at me and didn’t want to speak to me, but I did try to apologize about it afterwards. You just kept avoiding me. And then you crashed your jeep...” Derek trailed off and sighed. “I am sorry.  I was. . .enchanted the first time I came into your store, and it was right after we announced that Hale’s was moving in so everyone was very vocal against it, and you were talking about how much the store meant to you and your mom.  I just couldn’t bear the thought of telling you.”

Stiles fucking hated Derek.  He hated how he made his stomach turn in sympathy and made him want to forgive.  Stiles was known for holding grudges, okay.  He didn’t speak to Kira, _Kira_ , for a week after she broke one of his mom’s antique Cinderella slippers he kept in his office for a week. The only people he couldn't stay mad at too long were Scott and Lydia.   It was only the second apology from Derek, and Stiles was ready to tell him it was all right just to get rid of the look on his face.  Of course, Stiles couldn’t allow that.

“I accept your apology,” he said and watched as Derek looked up with a blinding smile. “But,” he warned. “You’re still forgetting one other thing.”

Derek’s face crumpled again, and Stiles couldn’t help but wish that smile would reappear.

“I’ll figure it out,” Derek said quietly.  “I will.” He looked down to the book in his hands. “I guess that means you want me to leave?”

Everything in Stiles head was saying yes. Why on would he want Derek Hale to stick around?  But instead, Stiles'--what? Heart? Hormones?--got ahead of him.  “No,” he coughed out. “You promised to read to me.”

Derek smiled and opened the book and started to read. It was the perfect spot, Stiles thought, it was just enough of what he remembered reading, but it continued to parts he didn’t know very quickly.  Stiles curled up in his bed of blankets Derek’s low, smooth voice. 

“”Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family,’ said Elizabeth coolly, ‘will be rather a confirmation of it; if, indeed, such a report is in existence.’

‘If!  Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it?  Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves?  Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad?’

‘I never heard that it was.’

‘And you can not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship.  Has he, has my nephew, made you an offer of marriage?’

‘Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.’”

Stiles smiled at Lizzie’s witty repertoire and caught Derek’s eye as he too, smiled along to the dialogue. Listening to Derek read was nice and calming, but decisive enough to convey the mood of the argument.

“’You are then resolved to have him?’” Derek was saying as Stiles started to drift off. 

“’I have said no such thing.  I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to _you,_ or to any person so wholly unconnected with me,’” Were the last words that Stiles remembered hearing.  Soon, he was in that place between asleep and awake when he felt Derek shifting on the couch.  Derek must have gotten up, because the next thing Stiles felt was Derek’s fingers going through his hair.

“Feel better, Stiles,” Derek said quietly.

Stiles smiled and it was the last thing he remembered before he fell asleep completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek reads Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen to Stiles. It is chapter 56. 
> 
> As it is part of public domain, it is free to the public. You can find many free versions of it online, including the version I used. 
> 
> https://www.gutenberg.org/files/1342/1342-h/1342-h.htm#link2HCH0053


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Woo!

It was the third to last Sunday that A Fox’s Tale was going to be open, and Stiles was up at the crack of dawn to spend the few minutes he had at the early hours of the Farmer’s Market.  The market started at seven am, and his store opened at nine, so he had about an hour before he had to go back and get ready at eight. He had been texting Mr. Grumpy the night before if it was worth the extra early hours to get up or not, but Mr. Grumpy had convinced him it was.  One: Coffee. Two: Chocolate croissants. Three: Finishing half of your grocery shopping.   

Stiles had just finished buying his first coffee in the morning when he stepped backwards and stepped on something squishy. 

“Sorry!” he squeaked out as he turned around. “Derek?”

Derek was frowning at his spilled cup of coffee, and hadn’t comprehended Stiles yet.  His eyes slowly traveled up Stiles’ frame, and Derek’s mouth formed a small smile when he got to Stiles’ face.  “Stiles.”

“Yeah.  Hi. Sorry about that. I guess I should buy you another cup of coffee.”

Derek shook his head.  “Don’t worry about it.  It’s free refills here, remember?”  He went ahead and topped his cup up with the dark roast.

“Right,” Stiles said awkwardly. Part of him wanted to flee and the other part wanted to take the advantage to talk to Derek.

“How are you feeling?” Derek asked him after he put the lid on his coffee cup and stood next to Stiles.

“Better,” Stiles told him.  “I can actually breathe through my nose this time.” Stiles clamped down on his mouth and demonstrated.

Derek chuckled.  “I’m glad that didn’t backfire this time.  I think I got a layer of snot the last time you tried that.”

“Dude.” Stiles broke out into full body laughter.  “You never said anything.”

Derek smiled, looking pleased with himself. “You were sick.”

“Yeah.  I was. Thanks for everything that night. The soup was probably the only real food I had that entire few days.  And, um, the reading was nice.”

Derek’s smile only grew wider. “You're welcome.”

“I was going to get a few pastries from Alex’s booth. Do you want some?”

“You can’t say no to Alex’s homemade pastries **.** Her chocolate croissants are the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Derek replied.

“They’re my favorite,” Stiles said as they meandered down the parking lot to Alex’s booth.

“Did you ever meet up with your blind date form the diner?”  Derek asked after a few moments of silence.

Stiles shook his head.  “No. We haven’t talked about meeting again.”

“Why not?”

Stiles hesitated before he continued. It wasn’t that he didn’t talk about Mr. Grumpy to anyone.  Everyone knew about him and teased him about it, but actual, serious talk was limited, but getting an outside opinion might be helpful.  “It’s a big step for us.  We’ve been talking for a while, but haven’t met in person. It would change the relationship.”

“You don’t want the relationship to change?”

“No, I do,” Stiles said as they reached Alex’s booth.  Derek ordered and paid for five chocolate croissants and handed one of them to Stiles.

“Thanks.  There’s always the chance of it changing for the worse.”

Derek shrugged as he finished chewing a bite of his croissant.  “Won’t ever know if you never meet.  You’ll always live wondering what if, if you don’t.”

“Yeah, I know.” Stiles shoved half of his croissant in his mouth and groaned happily as the rich flavors of chocolate hit his tongue.  Derek stared at him wide-eyed.

“Man, I love these thing,” Stiles said with his mouth full, except it sounded more like ‘Ma, uh of ooo ings.’ Which caused both of them to break down in laughter.  Stiles, immediately began choking as he laughed and had to spit most of the croissant on the ground.  “My croissant,” he lamented between gusts of laughter.  Derek just laughed harder.

Finally, once they had calmed down a bit, Derek said, “Deserves you right for eating like you were five. Max has better food manners than that.”

“Food’s too good to eat with manners,” he informed Derek as he purchased another chocolate croissant for himself. Nonetheless, Stiles took more normal-sized bites this time around.

To Stiles' surprise, he and Derek spent the rest of his hour shopping around the market together, and had a good time.  Stiles helped steer Derek in the direction of the best produce, and they mocked each other’s purchases.

Stiles almost lost track of the time and had to rush over to A Fox’s Tale around 8:10.

At work, Stiles finally brought the daycare idea up with Kira, who flipped shit over it Literally.  She managed to topple an entire table of books over in her excitement.

She started talking about how awesome it would be for her to continue working while she was still in school, and then work full time once she graduated next year.  She then started mumbling something about if she was going to stay in Beacon Hills she might actually ask Malia out on a date.

Stiles didn’t know who Malia was and wasn’t going to ask.  He put her down for definitely interested, and made a note to arrange a meeting her between her, Natalie, and him.  And Lydia to see how doable this idea actually is.  In the meantime, Stiles relished his time in the store, and even decided to make Story Time extra-long by reading two books.

He talked to all his favorite customers, and spent some time with Sean, Jenny, and Max.  Sean explained that most of the Hales were in Redding for the weekend, including Laura.  When Stiles asked why Derek wasn’t there, Sean gave him a weird look and said he was.

Maybe that was why Derek at the Farmer’s Market so early today, Stiles thought.

* * *

 

Later that night, Stiles texted Mr. Grumpy and asked to meet again.  Mr. Grumpy said that he wanted to, but he had a lot of business to take care of first, and he’d let him know when a good time was.  He promised that he wanted to, and that they would, but it was just a really bad time.

Stiles sighed, but at least it wasn’t a no. There was hope yet. 

Derek found Stiles sitting alone at The Daily Grind late one afternoon, and he decided to join him.

“Is this seat taken?  Or are you waiting for another blind date?” Derek asked from behind him, after he had already gotten his coffee.

“Derek, hey!”  Stiles greeted him with a smile.  Derek couldn’t help but smile in return and tried to keep his celebrating only in his mind.  Stiles had willingly smiled when he saw him.  It was progress.

“No blind dates today,” Stiles said as Derek sat down in the chair.  “But, he did agree to meet me!”

Derek took a sip of his coffee. “Really? That’s great news. When’s the big day?”

“Oh, we haven’t figured that part out yet. He has business to take care of first.”

Derek paused, his coffee cup halfway to his mouth. “Look, I’ve been trying to get on your good side here, but I have to ask.”

“Of course you do,” Stiles muttered. “Alright, go on. Rain on my parade.”

“Do you really believe this guy? I mean, what if he isn’t a guy or is really your dad’s age or older?”

“Or is an ex-con or a sex offender?” Stiles added.  “I know.   My dad’s the sheriff, and he’s not completely comfortable with the situation either, but I- I really like this guy, you know. So if that means getting my heart broken, so I can move past him, then fine.  I know how to be safe when I meet him, and Dad made me tell him the details of the last blind date.  I’m pretty sure he had someone patrolling the area.  Or more likely, someone in the diner and in the parking lot.”

Derek’s mouth had dropped open.

“What?” Stiles demanded.

“Heart broken?’  Derek asked weakly.  “It sounds like you’re in love with the guy or something.”

Derek watched as red made its way up from Stiles’ neck to blotchy spots on his cheeks.  Derek wondered if the rest of his body would flush like that.

“Something like that,” Stiles muttered, turning his attention to his coffee.

Derek felt his heart skip a beat, and forced himself to breathe normally.  He had suspected that Smartass felt some attraction to him from their conversations, but it was still something he had been worried about.  If Smartass really loved Mr. Grumpy as much as Derek loved Smartass, then it was one obstacle down.  It was a whole other thing for Stiles to accept that Derek was really Mr. Grumpy.

“So, how about those Mets?” Derek said, just to change the conversation.  He wasn’t sure if he could go through that line of thought without bursting.

“Duuuuude,” Stiles exclaimed excitedly. “You like the Mets?”

Stiles then went on to explain they were the best baseball team to ever be, which Derek agreed with.  Derek went on to explain that his family was split between Mets fans and Yankees fans.  His parents and Laura rooted for the Mets while his grandparents, Peter, Malia, and Cora rooted for the Yankees, and a couple of fights that had broken out because of it.  Stiles explained that his mom had been a big Mets fan, but his dad was loyal to the Dodgers, which was so, so lame.

They spent the rest of the afternoon arguing over their favorite players, until Derek had to go let Bailey out. It made Derek smile, to think he still had things to learn about Stiles.  Somehow, baseball was never a subject that had come up between Mr. Grumpy and Smartass. 

* * *

 

Later that night, Derek and Smartass exchanged a bunch of texts. Smartass kept asking him if he was eighty years old, married, or had any kids 

Derek told him not to be stupid, and told him the truth.  He was twenty-eight, single, bisexual, and a proud uncle.  He also told him that he would soon be a permanent resident of Beacon Hills. The adjustments on the Beacon Hills branch were almost finalized and would soon be the new standard for the rest of the stores.  The headquarters of Hale’s Wolftastic Books were already in the process of moving to Redding, which was barely an hour away.  Derek wasn’t entirely sure what his move was going to be after he finished standardizing the store, but he did know he was staying in Beacon Hills.  

Smartass asked if he was stalking him since the diner, so then Derek reversed their roles.  He asked Smartass if he didn’t have a secret girlfriend or a money-laundering scheme or if he did cocaine.  Smartass acted offended, but told Derek he was twenty-four, looking at going to college so he could probably use any of the money from Ponzi scheme, and the only drug he took on a regular basis was his doctor-prescribed Adderall.

Derek couldn’t help but think they were going through the getting to know you steps backwards, but he didn’t mind too much. 

* * *

 

Stiles seemed to be running into Derek even more than usual. Or, maybe not, but now Stiles wasn’t avoiding him.  No, instead they ended up doing their tasks together.  Unknown to Derek and Stiles, the entire town was talking about it, but no one was stupid enough to bring it up to them, afraid that the magic would wear off.

One Wednesday, Derek had stopped in at the veterinary clinic to pick up more heartworm medication for Bailey, and found Stiles and Scott playing with a dog in the waiting room.  The dog was scheduled to be fixed that night and was staying overnight. Scott and Stiles thought it was appropriate to let him loose and have fun during his last few hours of all-male dog. Derek ended up staying and playing fetch in the waiting room with them.

Stiles found Derek and Laura at the sports bar on a Friday night watching the Met’s game, and joined them.  Laura left during the sixth inning stretch, and said she was going to watch the rest of the game at home.  Stiles and Derek had drunk so much that Stiles had to call Scott to drive them both home.

Scott was too amused for his own good.

And then the following week, the week before A Fox’s Tale was scheduled to close, they ran into each other at the grocery store.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Stiles heard right against his ear, startling him and causing him to jerk his arm back right into Derek’s stomach.

“Dude,” Stiles said laughing, “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

Derek just shrugged and glanced down at Stiles' handcart. “That looks like a nutritious dinner.”

Stiles' handcart had Doritos, a liter of Dr. Pepper, some Fruit Roll-Ups, and he was standing in the freezer section looking at ice cream. 

“Eh, real food’s overrated,” Stiles replied.

Derek rolled his eyes and picked up the Fruit Roll-Ups, grimacing as he read the nutrition label. “That’s why you devour everything when we eat out.  It’s totally overrated.”

“It’s fast food.  It doesn’t count as real food,” Stiles countered.

“Beacon Hills doesn’t have fast food. It still not might be healthiest option, but it’s real food.  Most of the ingredients are bought at the Farmer’s Market and made to order. It doesn’t have a ton of preservatives or anything like that.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows.  “And how do you know that?”

“I had to do my research when I moved here. For me and for figuring out the café in the store,” Derek explained.

“Right.  The store,” Stiles said turning away and looking back at his ice cream options.  He was between Edy’s Reese’s flavor and the Chocolate Caramel Explosion. Derek reached over him opened the freezer door to grab a container of French vanilla.  Stiles turned around and watched Derek put it in his cart, which was overflowing with food.

“Dude, are you trying to feed a whole army?” he asked, poking the bag of flour that was sticking out of the side of the cart.

“Pretty much.  We’re having a family dinner, and I’m cooking.”

Stiles laughed.  “Did you lose a bet or something?”

Derek frowned and looked down at his cart. “No, I actually enjoy cooking.”

“Oh.  Sorry.”

Derek shrugged and didn’t look back up at him.

“I don’t know how to cook.  Neither does my dad.  We rely on canned and frozen foods, take out, and the marvelous Melissa McCall.”

“Scott’s mom? “

“Yeah.  She’s a nurse down at the hospital and practically runs the place, so she doesn’t always have lot of time to cook, but when she does, yum.”

“What about your mom?”  Derek asked slowly, as if he was worried he was going to scare Stiles away with talk of his mom.

“I don’t really remember.  I mean, I remember her in the kitchen making dinner because she would close the shop at five and then we’d eat at seven.  But I think it was mostly frozen pizzas.  Actual cooking was never really her thing either.”

“It isn’t everyone’s,” Derek admitted.

“Not everyone is good at it," Stiles corrected.  “You are. Which is really good. It means you can whip up amazing food at the drop of the hat and don’t have to stare forlornly at your fridge every time you go to eat something, wondering why nothing looks good.”

Derek looked down at Stiles' handcart again and cracked a smile.  “I think _that’s_ why nothing looks good.  You don’t buy food.”

“I don’t think you know the meaning of the word food. Food means edible. These items are all edible. So, they’re food. Food to fill my stomach.”

“More like processed sugar,” Derek mumbled.

“What’s wrong with processed sugar? It helps you stay awake at night.”

“Amongst other things,” Derek pointed out. “I’m actually surprised you look as good as you do if that’s your diet.”

Stiles turned his head back to the ice creams so Derek wouldn’t see him smiling like an idiot at the compliment. “My metabolism will slow down sooner or later.  Might as well exploit it while I still can.”

“What are you doing to night?” Derek asked randomly.

“Turning my brain off and turning on some really bad TV.  We finally finished finalizing our closing party and things today. My brain feels like mush.”

“You should come over for dinner.”

“What?” Stiles asked in shock, whipping back around to face Derek.

Derek grinned bashfully at him, and Stiles ignored the way his breath hitched when Derek did that. 

“You should join us for dinner. We would all love to have you over. And I can’t let you off in good conscious to eat that junk.”

“I, uh,” Stiles said, feeling a little overwhelmed.  He licked his lips as he tried to figure out an answer.  “I’m not sure if that’s the best idea.”

Stiles watched as Derek’s knuckles turned white from gripping the car too tight and the smile completely disappeared from his face.

“Right.  Of course.  It was a stupid idea,” Derek said, struggling to give Stiles a smile at the end.

“No it wasn’t!” Stiles objected, feeling like shit. He hated how fast Derek’s smile had slid of his face.

Derek let out a humorless laugh “Yes, it was. Don’t worry about it, Stiles. I’ll see you around.” Derek turned his cart around and quickly started to walk away.

“Derek!” Stiles called out, hurrying after him. “I just.  Are you sure your family will want to see me? It’s not like I’m family. Or invited.”

“I just invited you,” Derek said pointedly.

“Yeah, but we’re, like, you know. Friends.”  Stiles said, wondering when and how the fuck that happened. “I don’t know if the rest of your family really likes me.  Aren’t we supposed to be like enemies or something?”

“Not to sound like rich, giant store corporation owners or anything, but I think you hated us more than we ever hated you.” Derek sighed, his manner dropping down from defense.  “Look, Laura, Sean, and the kids are going to be there, and we know they love you. I know my mom likes you. Or at least the store, and I’m sure she’d love to pick your brain about it.  If you’re up to it,” Derek added quickly. “And it’s not just family. My best friend Boyd and his girlfriend Erica are going to be there too.”

“I would love to see Jenny and Max,” Stiles relented. Derek smiled and Stiles couldn’t help but stare at his adorably cute bunny teeth.

Which is how Stiles found himself at what he deemed the “Hale Mansion” less than an hour later. 

* * *

 

Derek wasn’t sure if inviting Stiles for dinner was the best or worst idea he ever had.  The idea of cooking dinner with Stiles and have him enjoy his cooking was what prompted Derek to ask.  Now, as they walked in his parent’s front door, Derek remembered that it wasn’t going to be just him and Stiles, but his entire freaking family.

It was a disaster waiting to happen.

“You guys, I’m home with the groceries! And a guest,” Derek shouted out.  “The kitchen’s this way,” he told Stiles as he led them through the front foyer and the main hallway.  No one was in the study or the den as they passed.  They finally found Derek’s dad getting started in the kitchen.

“Hey, Derek.”  His dadcame over and grabbed some of the bags from Stiles. “Who's this?”

“Dad, this is Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my dad, William Hale.”

“Um. Nice to meet you, sir.  Sorry for intruding on your dinner.  I told him it wasn’t necessary.  Not that I don’t want to be here, but I know I’m uninvited. I, uh, yeah.  There really isn’t anyway I can save this, is there?” Stiles word-vomited out.

William laughed, and shook Stiles’ hand. “Don’t’ worry about it. If Derek invited you, then you were invited.  Are you going to help you us cook dinner?”

“I can try?”

“Good enough.  Here, why don’t you start chopping up these vegetables?”

“You might not want me around sharp objects, to be honest.  The last time Melissa had me use a knife, I had to get six stitches.  I’ve been banned from using sharp kitchen utensils at her house. And mine.  Actually, she’s banned me from using a lot of sharp objects,” Stiles said.

“Here,” Derek said, handing Stiles a bag of corn. "Why don’t you go ahead and finishing husking them? No tools required except your own hand and the brush, if you want it.”

Stiles nodded enthusiastically and took the bag of corn.  “That, I can do. Where. . .?” Stiles asked, looking around the kitchen.  The kitchen cabinets and the table were covered with bags of food.

“Go ahead and find a place at the kitchen table,” William instructed.  “See if there is anything that needs to go in the fridge in those grocery bags, hopefully that should clear up a space for you.  Derek, why don’t you get him the garbage can to toss the husks into?”

Both Stiles and Derek complied. As they got everything set up, Derek asked, “Where is everyone?  I didn’t see anyone down here.  Or hear anyone.”

“I think Malia and Cora are upstairs. Everyone else is outside. Jenny and Max were just playing around in the leaves.  Your mother and Peter were arguing about where they should set up the fire pit.   Of course, Laura had to put her two cents in and dragged Sean outside.  Sean’s probably playing with the kids by now.  The dogs are outside too.”

“You have dogs?” Stiles asked from where he was situated at the table, already husking the corn.

“Wolves, actually,” William said, smiling.

Derek rolled his eyes and started boiling the water for the potatoes.  “Don’t listen to him, Stiles.  They’re dogs.”

“Sort of,” William added.

“And I’m confused.” Stiles looked curiously from Derek to William.

“They’re Czechoslavakian Wolfdogs. They are a German Shepherd mixed with Carpathian Wolf,” Derek told him, moving on to cut the vegetables while he waited for the water to boil.

“That’s really cool.  How many do you have?”

“It depends on who you’re asking,” Williams said. “My parents unofficially breed them.  They – Actually I don’t remember how they ended up with theirs.  But they’ve always had a couple running around, and I had two before I got married. When Talia and I did get married, they gave us one as a wedding present, and the kids grew up around them. Laura, Derek, and Cora have all gotten around to getting their own as well.”

“If I look out to your backyard, should I be excepting to see a whole herd of dogs out there?”

Derek snorts.  “You would see three.  Jennyanydots, Tigger, and Skywalker.”

Stiles blinked.  “Who named them?”

“I named Jennyanydots and Talia named Skywalker. I’m not sure how Tigger got his name,” William said as he prepared the buttered Brussels sprouts.

“Cora?” Derek said, trying to remember. “I think it took when she was drunk one night.”

Stiles laughed from where he was in his corner. “That sounds like how I would end up naming a pet.”

Derek and William did most of the cooking with Stiles helping out where he could.  He mostly stood on the kitchen table side of the kitchen and asked them a lot of question.  Derek enjoyed explaining to Stiles what they were doing as they cooked, and he could tell that his dad did too.

Boyd and Erica arrived about halfway through dinner prep.  Erica gave Derek a suggestive look in Stiles' direction, and Boyd had raised his eyebrows when they caught sight of Stiles in Derek’s parent’s kitchen. Derek, however, resolutely ignored them, and they soon left the kitchen. 

Derek’s favorite part of the evening was when they had Stiles knead some of the dough for the Pesto Cheesy Bread. Stiles wasn’t doing too much actual kneading at first.  It was more like he was flopping the dough up and down, so Derek approached him from behind. He slowly put his hands on top of Stiles’.  “Stop.”

Even though Derek had approached him slowly, Stiles jerked back all the same, almost stepping on Derek’s foot.

Derek nudges him forward back go the table. “That’s not going to accomplish anything.”

“What do you mean?  I was kneading it!  Making it better dough!”

Derek snorted.  “No, you weren’t.  _This_ is how you knead.”

Derek regretfully let go of Stiles’ hands to push the dough flat before he folded it over and then press his body weight to flatten it again.  He repeated the process a couple of time, until his hands started sticking to the dough.

Stiles laughed as Derek lifted his hand and the dough came up with it.  Stiles grabbed some flour and massaged it along Derek’s fingers to detach them.

“You forgot the flour,” Stiles said, laughing at him.

“No, shit,” Derek mumbled.  “Go on, you try it.”

Derek watched as Stiles went through the motions, actually kneading it this time.  He paid special attention so he wouldn’t get too close, but he couldn’t help but wish his dad wasn’t in the room at the time.   Derek wanted nothing more to get rid of any space between them and drag his mouth from Stiles' ear and down his neck.

Or, maybe, it was a good thing his dad was there. Derek didn’t think they were ready for that yet.

“Good job,” Derek finally said after five minutes of watching Stiles work and slowly baking away from the table. He refused to look at his father as he got to work on the potatoes.

Not surprisingly, they had finished cooking the entire meal and set the dining room table before the group from outside came in. William had to go out and bring them inside for dinner while Derek went to get everyone that was upstairs, which left Stiles alone in the dining room.

Derek could hear Jenny and Max yelling from upstairs. He assumed that they had seen Stiles. He tried to hurry his sister and his friends down the stairs, eager to return to Stiles.  were the first ones to reach the dining room, and burst into a fit of squeals and tackling Stiles in a hug. As Stiles tried to remain upright, he could hear the rest of the adults talking in the hallway. Laura and Sean were asking why the kids just screamed Stiles, and William was explaining he was invited over to dinner.

* * *

 “And he came?” Stiles could hear Laura’s shocked voice.

"I’ve heard so much about him,” Stiles heard a different male voice say that he didn’t recognize.

Five people then walked into the room. Stiles recognized Laura, Sean, Talia, and William, but he didn’t know who the last man that entered the room was. He looked somewhere in between the ages of Laura and Talia.  Probably close to Melissa’s age, Stiles thought.

“Stiles, it’s so nice to see you again,” Talia said, smiling at him. “I’m glad you agreed to join us for dinner.”

Stiles gave a nervous smile.  “Yeah, well Derek basically insisted after he saw my sad excuse for a shopping cart.”

“We’re glad you’re here.  I’ve heard you met my husband, William, and I know you know the Murphys.   Have you met my younger brother, Peter?”

The man that Stiles hadn’t recognized stepped forward and trailed his eyes up Stiles' body. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” he said, smirking.

Stiles unconsciously took a step backwards. “Uh, sure.  Right.  What you said.”

Peter only smiled wider.

Luckily, their attention was redirected to the staircase to what sounded like a herd of elephants coming down the stairs.

“I wasn’t that drunk, Derek,” Stiles could hear a female voice saying.

“So, you started calling him Tigger sober?” Stiles heard, distinguishing Derek’s voice.

“I’m not the one that started calling him that!”

“Then who did?  Laura?  She’s never watched or read a whole thing of Winnie-the-Pooh in her life.”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one who used to own a Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animal,” the female voice responded as Derek, two brown-haired females, and Erica and Boyd entered the room.

“I did not start calling him Tigger,” Derek responded flatly.

“That’s because you didn’t,” Peter said, joining into the conversation.  “That was Malia. It was after she had done that study on tigers.  She and Cora got into an argument about how Tigger could in no way be a tiger. I believe there were copious amounts of alcohol involved.”

All eyes swiveled to Malia, the girl with lighter brown hair.  “Thanks, Dad,” she deadpanned as she took a seat on the table.  “Who's this?” She asked eyeing Stiles.

“This is my – this is Stiles,” Derek said, glancing at Stiles. Stiles, Erica, and Boyd, however, all gave him a weird look.

“Stiles, you met Erica and Boyd earlier.” Boyd nodded from his seat and Erica shot him a toothy grin.  “This is my younger sister, Cora,” Derek said gesturing. “And my cousin, Malia.”

Stiles suddenly was struck with the memory of Kira muttering about a Malia at A Fox’s Tale.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Do you know Kira?”

She looked at him in surprise. “Yeah, we’ve been training together. How do you know her?”

“She’s my best employee,” Stiles explained.

“Your best?” Malia asked. “Where do you work?”

And just like that an awkward silence descended on the table.  Malia hadn’t been around Beacon Hills too much, Derek actually thought it was amazing she had made a training buddy in the short time that she had been here, so it made sense that she didn’t really know who Stiles was.  She was, however, the only one.

Surprisingly, it was Max that broke the silence. “He’s Stiles from Story Time with Stiles.Kira’s the one that makes sure we don’t spill crumbs on the floor.”

“But it’s closing,” Jenny added, sadly. “No more Story Time.”

“You own A Fox’s Tale?”  Malia asked.  “Why the fuck are you here?”

Peter chuckled, while almost everyone except Cora shot her a dark look.

“Free food?” Stiles offered weakly as an explanation.

Malia looked between Derek and Stiles and rolled her eyes.  “Right. Free food.”

“Speaking of food,” Talia said.   “Why don’t we sit down and eat dinner?”

* * *

 

Derek thought dinner went really well. He couldn’t help but notice how well Stiles got along with his family.  The Murphys already loved him, and Derek knew he loved the kids back. His mom was able to ask him questions about A Fox’s Tale without Stiles looking too uncomfortable about it and talked about his mom and the shop openly.  When Peter made a snide comment about the fact that it was going under, Stiles told him he shouldn’t get too full of himself.  He informed them that it was his choice to close the store, and they weren’t bankrupt.  Stiles even bet Peter that they could’ve continued running the store, if Stiles hadn’t wanted a life. Peter actually seemed pretty impressed with Stiles after that.

“So, Stiles,” Talia asked.  “What are your plans after A Fox’s Tale?”

“For me or for A Fox’s Tale?” Stiles asked around a mouth full of potatoes.  Talia looked at him pointedly, and Stiles closed his mouth and chewed. Derek had a suspicion that Stiles was used to getting those looks from Melissa.

“I thought A Fox’s Tale was closing. How can there be plans for it?” Cora asked, sounding bored.

“We own the building, so we weren’t planning to sell the space. I wasn’t really sure what we were going to do with it.  I was going to worry about it after the store closed, but Derek, actually, was the one to suggest it.”

Derek looked over at him in surprise. “You mean you’re actually going to open up a daycare?”

He had suggested that at the very beginning of his process of trying to win Stiles over as Derek Hale and not as Mr. Grumpy. If he had started listening to him even then, maybe they were at a better place than Derek had thought. 

“We’re looking into it,” Stiles said.  “Kira’s majoring in Early Childhood Education at Pacific Hills University. She’ll be a senior next year, so it’ll be a great way for her to gain experience, and not actually lose her job. Natalie Martin, who was the head accountant for A Fox’s Tale, has been looking over our options financially, but her daughter and my friend, Lydia, might take over doing the finances. We’re looking to find someone we can trust and is qualified to run the center right now to figure out now. That way, they can help us mold the program that’s best for the kids.  It’s still in its early stages, but we’re looking at our options. I’m not sure when it’ll take off.”

“You might even be able to keep a lot of the things from the bookstore,” Talia said thoughtfully.

“Yeah, that was what Derek had said, when he suggested it,” Stiles said.  “The worst part of losing the store was that I was losing my mom all over again. But, if the layout stays almost the same or similar, it won’t be that big of a change.  At least, that’s what I’m telling myself. That, and we’d be doing one of the things she set out to do, make a home for kids.  One of us should have really thought about it before, because my mom practically ran a daycare there when I was growing up.  Scott, Lydia, and I spent all our after school hours there." Stiles looked over at Derek at smiled softly.  “It really was a great idea.” 

Derek couldn’t help but smile in return, and tapped down on the urge to reach out and hold Stiles' hand with his own.  Instead, he tightened his hand in his napkin and took a drink of water.

“You don’t plan to run the daycare yourself?” Derek’s father asked Stiles.

Stiles shook his head.  “I love kids, but it really isn’t my thing. I’ve been looking at the police academy and before it was announced that you guys were coming to town. Right now, I’ve been finishing up college applications.  I think I want to go into criminal justice, but I also thought I wanted to run my mom’s bookstore, and it turns out that I’m not prepared to do that for the rest of my life. I’m going to use college as a way to make sure I actually figure out what I want to do and not just think I want to do.  I don’t want to make the same mistake twice.”

“I don’t think running the bookstore was a mistake. It sounded like it was where you were meant to be at that time,” Derek said.

Stiles smiled at him.

Dinner, Derek thought, was definitely a good idea.

* * *

 

What wasn’t a good idea was using the fire pit outside to roast marshmallows.  Now Derek loved s’mores as much as the next person, and he didn’t find a problem with it until he watched Stiles devour a bunch of marshmallows.

They were just laughing and joking around when Stiles turned his roasting stick around and shoved it deep into his mouth, swallowing around the two marshmallows.  As he pulled it out of his mouth, the white gooey strings of the marshmallows trailed between his mouth and the stick.  It took enormous effort for Derek to drag his eyes away from Stiles mouth and try not to attract any attention to his lap in case a budge may or may not be noticeable.

Instead, he tried to focus on Laura shrieking at Stiles at how unsanitary it was and laugh along as Stiles just shrugged and plopped another marshmallow on his stick.  The next time around, however, Derek insisted he put his marshmallow on graham cracker with chocolate, so he didn’t have to witness that mess again. His attempts, however, were in vain, and he watched Stiles lick up the gooey white strings of marshmallow around his lips.

“God, that’s perfectly sinful, isn’t it?” Erica whispered next to him watching Stiles just as intensely.  “I, for one would love to know what that mouth feels like.”

Derek started coughing around his piece of graham cracker, which, unfortunately, brought the attention of his entire family to Derek.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” his mom asked as Boyd handed him a bottle of water.  Derek chugged down half of the bottle and took a few deep breaths before he answered.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

There was a beat and then.  “What did Erica say to you?” Cora asked.

Derek groaned and hoped they couldn’t see his flush in the firelight – or it was hidden by his red face caused by his coughing fit. Erica, on the other hand, crackled loudly.

“Oh, you know,” she said, grinning brightly as her eyes traveled to Stiles and focused on his mouth. The rest of his family gave either Derek or Stiles a look and smirked.

Stiles fumbled awkwardly from the attention and dropped an entire Hershey’s bar on the ground.  “Well, I think that’s my cue to go,” he said, standing up.

“I’ll walk you out,” Derek said automatically, which earned a few chuckles and a couple of more glances.  Derek ignored them and headed back through the house with Stiles and walked to right out to his jeep in the driveway.

“So, thanks for inviting me to dinner,” Stiles said as he came to a stop outside his driver’s seat.

“You're welcome,” Derek replied. “I’m glad you decided to join us.”

“Yeah, it was nice.”  Stiles laughed a little before he added, “It was much better than the first dinner we had together.”

Derek thought about all the meals they had shared together in the past few weeks, but none of them stuck out as particularly awful. “I’ve enjoyed eating with you,” he said quietly.

“Not _now_ ,” Stiles stressed.  “You know, that first time like over a year ago at that dinner party. _That_ was awful.”

Derek flinched when he realized what Stiles was talking about.  He had shut that night out of his memory.  He had hated the look of anger and betrayal on Stiles’ face that night.  And Derek had felt like shit after the heated discussion they had over the food table.  Derek was still ashamed about what he had said about the store and his mom – and shit.

“Fuck, Stiles.  I’m so, so sorry,” Derek rushed out.  “That night.  What I said. It was awful, and I had no idea what I was talking about.  I was just getting defensive, and it was the one the thing I knew about you. Not that it was any excuse. Your shop is wonderful, and I’m sure your mom would be proud of it.”

Stiles gave him a sad smile.  “I think that was the last thing I was mad at you about, Derek.”

“Was?” Derek asked hopefully.

“I- Good night, Derek," Stiles said, and he hopped into his car and headed home.

Maybe it was time for Mr. Grumpy and Smartass to finally meet, Derek thought as he watched the blue jeep drive away. 

* * *

 

Stiles was in a weird mood.  He had gotten back from dinner with the Hale’s feeling off-kilter and picked up _Pride and Prejudice_ to get his mind off his night, and it worked up until he finished. He was sniffling because he finally finished it, and understood what he mother loved about it. He could easily picture his mom was Lizzie Bennett; although he knew that his parents’ love story was much less troublesome than Lizzie’s and Darcy’s. 

He picked up the phone to text Mr. Grumpy and celebrate, and then his mind strayed. He remembered Derek picking up his copy at the diner and his voice reading it as Stiles fell asleep.  He wondered what Derek’s favorite parts were and if he thought Collins was grade a idiot or just doing the right thing. He froze and tried to push all and any thoughts of Derek to the back of his brain. He was going to text _Mr. Grumpy_ , the man he had fallen in love with.

Stiles  
 **And Pride and Prejudice bites the dust!**  

Mr Grumpy  
 **Does that mean you didn’t like it?**

Stiles  
 **Dude, where have you been?  Have you been paying any attention?**

Mr Grumpy  
 **No, I’ve just been letting your texts go to voicemail.  All of my replies have been automated replies from my phone**

Stiles  
 **Jackass**

Mr Grumpy  
 **You approved of the ending?**

Stiles  
 **I’m not heartless, of course I did!  
** **I loved the Lady Catherine basically brought it on herself**

Mr Grumpy  
 **You would**

Stiles  
 **Why? what’s your favorite part of the end?**

Mr Grumpy  
 **It used to be Jane and Bingley’s marriage**

Stiles  
 **SERIOUSLY? THAT’S YOUR FAVORITE?**

Mr Grumpy  
 **But now, I love how Darcy and Lizzie see each other how they really are. It means more to me than it did before.**

Stiles  
 **But whyyyyy Jane and Bingley?  They’re so duuuuull**

Mr Grumpy  
 **I liked their relationship.  To me, they weren’t the ones that screwed it up, but everyone else did.  But now, I know not everyone is perfect, even the ones in the relationship**

Stiles frowned down at his phone. Slowly and carefully he typed out his next sentence.

Stiles  
 **Are you dating someone?  Did I miss something?**

Stiles bit his lip as he waited for a response. 

Mr Grumpy  
 **No, I’m not. And yes, you probably missed something.**

Stiles breathed out in relieve. He wasn’t sure if he could handle Mr. Grumpy dating someone else. 

Stiles  
 **Asshole**

Mr Grumpy  
 **So, do you feel closer to your mom?**

Stiles  
 **Smooth change of subject.  Real smooth. Couldn’t think of a comeback there?**

Mr Grumpy  
 **Like Asshole even deserved a comeback**

Stiles  
 **Fine. Yeah, I’m glad I’ve read it. I think I’m going to keep it on my nightstand to remind me of her.  It’s good to have something I can connect to her, especially since I’m losing her store.**

Mr Grumpy  
 **That must really be tough**

Stiles  
 **Yeah – I don’t really want to think about it too much.**

Mr Grumpy  
 **Then we don’t have to talk about it**

Stiles  
 **Thanks**

* * *

The following Monday, when Derek went to get the mail, he found what looked like a wedding invitation.  One of those thick envelopes with his name addressed in flowing script on the front. Derek’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion as he wondered from whom it was from.  He didn’t know anyone that was getting married.  His eyes flickered to the top left of the envelope where the return address was listed.  His eyes widened when he saw A Fox’s Tale and its address written down.

He hurried headed back into his apartment, tossed the rest of his stuff of the kitchen counter and started to open the letter. Or tried to anyways, Bailey was excited that he was home, and ready to go on her run.  She kept bouncing around him with excited barks. Eventually Derek went into the den and sank into the sofa to pet her and calm her down.  When she finally sat down, her tail wagging excitedly, Derek took the opportunity to open the letter.  Inside on some fancy cardstock was an invitation to the Closing Party of A Fox’s Tale.  It described the big event to be last Farmer’s Market Sunday and Story Time with Stiles, and then hors d’oeuvre after the store closes at 5 PM.

Derek was pretty sure that Stiles wasn’t the one that sent out or made the invitations.  He pulled out his phone to call him, when he realized _he_ didn’t have Stiles’ number.  Only Mr. Grumpy did.  He did a quick Google search for the store number, and hoped Stiles would answer.

“A Fox’s Tale,” answered the phone on the other end.   It wasn’t Stiles, but Derek was pretty sure it was Isaac.

“Isaac?”  Derek asked.

“Yeah, this is Isaac.  How can I help you?”

“Is Stiles there?  I would like to speak to him.”

There was a pause, and Derek could hear Isaac talking to someone on the other end.  His voice growing a little louder in frustration at the end.

“Who may I ask is calling?” Isaac asked moodily into the phone.

“It’s Derek.   Hale.”

Isaac snorted.  “Yeah, I got Stiles for you, Derek. Hold on.”

The line went silent for a few seconds and then Derek heard something click.

“Derek?” he heard Stiles ask.

“Hey,” Derek replied.

“What’s up?  You don’t normally call me at work.” 

Derek’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. Had Stiles figured it out?

“Well, you don’t call me at all. It would be weird if you did considering you don’t have my number,” Stiles said, laughing at the other end.

Derek’s heart calmed down a little. No, he hadn’t. It wasn’t the time for rejection or figuring out awkward conversations.  Not that awkward conversation, at least.

“I just got an invitation in the mail for A Fox’s Tale.  Did you know about these?”

“For the closing party?  Yeah, it’s all of the Martins' idea.  Something about going out with a bang, and I figured why not.  I’m not going to say no to a party, especially when it’ll distract me from crying my eyes out afterwards.”

“So the Martins are doing the planning and everything?” Derek asked, eying the fancy invitation.

“Oh yeah.  I let them have free range on it.  Kinda a thank you for everything they’ve done for the store.  Believe it or not, they’re the type of the people that actually _enjoy_ planning out a party and putting it together.  Stressful work, if you ask me.”

“Yeah,” Derek said.  “I just wanted to make sure you knew.  The invitations didn’t look like something you would send out.”

Stiles snorted on the other end. “That’s because they’re not. Hey, do you want to R.S.V.P. now? Since you’re on the phone and everything. Let’s see, Lydia left the form thing somewhere in here.” Derek could hear Stiles muttering.

“I’ll be there,” Derek promised him.

“Awesome!” Stiles said brightly. “What about the rest of your family?”

“The rest of my family?”  Derek asked.

“Yeah, I had Lydia invite all of you guys. It might be a little weird, but. . .” Stiles trailed of and then cleared his throat.  “Dinner was really nice the other night,” Stiles admitted softly.  “And I know the Murphys and Talia appreciate the store.  And you.  I thought at that point, I might as well invite all of you.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’m sure they’ll be there.  Even if it’s just for curiosity’s sake.”

“Yeah, Erica assured me that was the biggest reason she and Boyd were coming when she R.S.V.P.'d. Something about needing to judge my lair.”

“You really did invite everyone,” Derek said, smiling.

“Um, well. Yeah.  I hope that’s okay?” Stiles asked.  Derek could hear his confusion in his voice.

“No, it’s great.  I’m looking forward to it.  I just wish it wasn’t a closing.”

Stiles sighed on the other end. “Yeah, me too. I’ve got to get back to work, but I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Stiles.”

“Bye, Derek,” Stiles said and then he hung up his phone.

Derek went and put the invitation on the kitchen fridge and then took Bailey on their scheduled run, meeting an impatient Boyd at the preserve.

As they ran, Derek thought about how Stiles had invited his entire family over to his shop because he wanted to, and how, for a split second, he thought they might have kissed the other night at dinner.

After the run, Derek showered and then grabbed his phone.

Derek  
 **I’ve finally figured things out.  Can you meet at the North Entrance of the preserve next Monday at 11:30?**

Derek waited an hour before he got a response back. 

Smartass  
 **Ok.**

Derek grinned, but then it quickly faded away. He felt oddly jealous as Derek that Stiles was agreeing to meet Mr. Grumpy, which was ridiculous.

* * *

The last day of A Fox’s Tale was one of the most surreal days of Stiles’ life.  It was perfect.  All his favorite customers had showed up.  The bakeries all managed to get along for the morning and early afternoon hours and sold all of Stiles’ favorite foods.  During Story Time with Stiles, he read his favorite book, _Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs_ , and he didn’t have to worry about the finances for a single moment all day.  His most favorite people were in and out of the shop all day, and even his least favorite people, like Isaac, didn’t make Stiles want to strangle them.

Stiles thought he would spend the whole day trying not to cry, but instead it was like a big celebration.  Everyone was just happy to be there, and everyone was telling him how excited they were to see what he did next with his life. They even had a countdown to when they officially closed the shop at 4:50 PM counting down till 5:00, ending the reign of A Fox’s Tale with cheers and laughter.

Although the invitations had been really fancy, the Martins kept the decorations on a kid-friendly level. There were balloons and some sort of streamers decorating the store.  They managed some sort of open bar that Stiles didn’t even question about where the money came from.  He just drank. They also arranged food from hors d’oeuvres that Stiles couldn’t even pronounce to kid food like chicken nuggets, Stiles’ main munch for the evening.

Lydia had taken over the sound system and put on a special Spotify playlist she had made.  Stiles watched happily as his dad and Melissa got closer and closer throughout the evening, till they were dancing to some of the slow songs. Other people seemed to decide that was a great idea, and joined in.  Malia asked Kira to dance and Isaac asked Cora Hale.  Stiles couldn’t help but notice that Cora seemed skeptical in Isaac’s request but agreed to anyways. 

Stiles was glad that Isaac and Allison hadn’t worked out.  Allison and Scott had been spending actual platonic time together.  Stiles knew Scott was in over his head, and from his conversations with Allison, he was pretty sure she was too.  Scott and Allison danced around each other for ages, until Stiles told them just to dance and go out on a god for honest date.   He saw Talia and William close together as well as Laura and Sean. Erica had made a show of making Boyd dance, but in the end they both looked like they had forgotten the rest of the room and happy to be with one another.

Stiles' eyes drifted over to Derek, as they had many times that day.  Derek had been in and out of the store all day.   Most of the Hales had come in for the Farmer’s Market period and stayed for Story Time.  He had left with the rest of them around noon, but Derek had come back around three.  They had said a couple of words together, but hadn’t really had a chance to talk. The majority of the Beacon Hills population had demanded Stiles’ attention that day.

Instead, Stiles made small talk with everyone else and watched as Derek played with his niece and nephew. Derek talked with Isaac and Scott, and then most alarmingly, had a very long conversation with the sheriff and Melissa that Stiles couldn’t find time to interrupt.

Now, Derek was talking to Lydia. She didn’t look like she was going put him down, which was good, Stiles thought, but he couldn’t help but worry about what she could possibly be saying to him, and started to make his way through the room to them.

Stiles looked back over to Derek and Lydia, who seemed to be done with their conversation.  He caught Derek’s eyes, and Derek smiled at him and headed over.

“Hey,” Derek said, smiling at him.

“Hi,” Stiles replied softly.  Derek looked really good.  His hair looked soft and touchable as well as the soft Henley he was wearing. It was just tight enough at Stiles could make out certain muscles through the shirt.

Derek glanced over to wear the dancing couples had started to abandon the dance floor.  “I was going to ask you to dance, but I guess it’s too late now.”

“You were?” Stiles squeaked out in surprise.

Derek smiled, but Stiles saw some sadness in his eyes. “Yeah.  But I guess you’re still in love with someone else.”

“Um,” Stiles glanced around him and couldn’t help but feel how cluttered and close everyone was in the store. “Do you want to go outside and talk?”

Derek gave him an odd look.  “Sure,” he responded slowly.

There was a slight chill in the air that breezed by as Stiles and Derek walked outside.  Stiles leaned up against the brick exterior of the building thinking that it felt nice against his warm, flushed cheeks due to the drinking. . .and other things.

“I have a date with him tomorrow,” Stiles told him quietly.  He knew he didn’t owe it to Derek to let him know.  It wasn’t like they were dating or anything, but it felt right. He didn’t owe it to Derek, but Derek still deserved to know.  He was there when Stiles got stood up, after all.  “In the flesh and everything.”

“I- I wish I could say I was happy for you,” Derek said softly, looking at the ground.  “It’s just really hard.”  Derek swallowed and then raised his eyes until he made eye contact with Stiles.

Stiles was struck with the intensity held behind those eyes.  Intensity that was aimed at him.  “I wish more than anything that we had met under different circumstances.  Or that I wasn’t Derek Hale.  Maybe you wouldn’t hate me if I wasn’t Derek Hale.”

Stiles breath caught at Derek’s almost admission.

“I wanted to ask for your number so bad the first day we met.  You were enchanting and looked so damn good.  And then I saw you at that stupid dinner party. I was so glad to see you that I didn’t even think about how much you would hate me.”

Stiles didn’t know what to do. Here was Derek standing there and professing all of this, looking at him like he meant something. Stiles had never been looked at that way before.  Stiles wanted him to always look at him like that.  He wanted that and so much more.

“Sometimes, I think if I wasn’t me, you would’ve given me your number.  That we would’ve had a chance.”

“Derek,” Stiles croaked out.  “Please.  Don’t.”

“I would’ve spent hours planning our dates, and wondered if it would have been okay to hold your hand, and I would’ve walked you to your front door to give you a simple kiss goodnight.  I could’ve made you fall in love with me, instead.”

Stiles shook his head and finally managed to break eye contact with Derek.  Instead he looked to the sky, trying to ignore the burning he felt of Derek’s gaze.

“But you didn’t,” Stiles finally said. “We didn’t.  And. I love him.  I can’t just give up on him.”

“I know,” Derek said softly.

After a few minutes of silence, Derek leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Stiles’ cheek.  Stiles closed his eyes and tried not to think that it was the closest he would ever get to Derek.

“Goodnight, Stiles,” Derek said softly.  Stiles waited until he couldn’t feel Derek anymore and opened his eyes. He watched Derek walk down the street, get in his car and drive off.

“I do too,” Stiles whispered to the moon in the sky. 

* * *

 

Stiles fretted all morning about the clothes he should wear.  He had originally pulled on the same clothes he had picked out for the first date they were supposed to have, but then Stiles wondered if Mr. Grumpy hadn’t actually seen him the first time, causing him to pull out most of the contents in his closet trying to figure out something to wear.  An hour before his date, he finally gave up and called Allison for help. Allison, that wouldn’t drive him insane like Lydia and actually found guys attractive, unlike Kira.

She told him that his butt looked good in his dark blue pants to just not wear plaid, a sweatshirt, or a graphic tee and he should be fine.  That left him with two nice clean shirts, and Allison told him to wear the smaller of the two, not to put too much gel in his hair, and to remember to brush his teeth.  

Stiles dutifully followed all her orders, and found himself impatiently waiting at one of the preserve parking lots fifteen minutes early.

Stiles fidgeted in his seat and kept playing with the radio tuner, hoping that something would distract him. It wasn’t working.

The worst part, Stiles thought as he chewed on a hangnail, was that he almost wasn’t looking forward to the meeting. Part of it was nerves, but really, all Stiles could think about was Derek and the words he said to him last night.

‘I could’ve made you fall in love with me, instead,’ he had said.

Stiles had a bad feeling that Derek might have been more successful on that wish than either of them had realized.

“Fuck,” Stiles exclaimed loudly. It was now five minutes till the date, and Stiles pulled out his phone to call Derek.  Maybe, he was making a mistake.  Then he realized he didn’t have Derek’s number.

“Fuck a duck!” Stiles swore, staring at his cell phone.  He was tempted to throw it through the trees just to get rid of the jerkiness he was feeling in his bones, but it probably wasn’t worth it.

It was three minutes till.

Maybe, Stiles thought, as he got out of the car, Mr. Grumpy wasn’t in love with him.  Maybe they were really just friends.   But he didn’t want to be just friends with Mr. Grumpy either.  Stiles reached the north side entrance to the preserve at exactly one minute till and jittered in the spot.

Was this a good idea?

A howl broke through the air and then a large object was tumbling into Stiles, and he tumbled to the ground.

Stiles felt something wet lick his cheek. A dog was slobbering all over him. Or a wolf.  A Czechoslovakian Wolfdog, Stiles realized.

“Bailey!” Stiles heard from behind him. Hope bubbled up in his chest at the familiar voice.  “Bailey, stop that!”

Stiles looked behind him and saw Derek Hale walking towards him. 

* * *

 

“YOU ASSHOLE!” was the first thing Stiles shouted when he turned around and saw Derek.

Derek froze in his tracks.  He had thought Stiles might have forgiven him, and was ready for this. For him.  Derek tried not to panic as he felt all his hope disappear in a single burst.

Stiles quickly stood up and practically stomped his way over to Derek.  “You are such an asshole! I can’t fucking believe you!  How dare you!”  he yelled all the way over till he was right in Derek’s personal space and his red angry face right up in Derek’s face.

Derek closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable “I hate you.”

“ _Asshole,_ ” he heard Stiles swear one more times before there was hot, unforgiving pair of lips on his, and Stile’s arms pulled Derek tight up against him.  Derek’s eyes flew open in shock and had to see it for himself that Stiles was right there, _kissing him._

His eyes shut again as he gave way to the sensations. Stiles’ teeth knocked angrily together with his as Stiles forced his way into Derek’s mouth. Derek shuddered as Stiles nails' scratched down Derek’s back.  Derek moved both of his hands down Stiles’ torso, sliding down to grab the back of Stiles’ ass and pull him even closer.  Derek felt Stiles grind down, sliding their fronts together, and Derek tightened his grip on the globes of Stiles’ ass in response.  Stiles moaned into Derek’s mouth and then bit down and pulled on Derek’s bottom lip.  Derek couldn’t help but whimper as Stiles then softly sucked it between his lips.

By the time they broke apart for air, they both looked like a mess.  Derek couldn’t help but smile at how Stiles looked.  His hair was sticking up on one side, his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were half-lidded. Derek found himself staring at Stiles’ kiss-swollen lips, looking even more pink than usual. Cautiously with his thumb, he traced Stiles' upper cheek bone and then swiped it against Stiles’ bottom lip. Stiles licked his bottom lip and then slowly sucked the tip of Derek’s thumb into his mouth.

Derek groaned and withdrew his thumb. God, he didn’t want to stop, but Derek wanted to do this right, which meant not illegally fornicating on public property, which was the direction they were headed.

“You don’t hate me?” he whispered to Stiles.

Stiles glared at him.  “No,” he replied stubbornly. “But I should.”

“I would deserve it,” Derek said, agreeing as he slid his hands into Stiles' back pockets, keeping Stiles as close to his body as he could.

Stiles melted into Derek’s embrace and then sighed. “I wanted it to be you,” he admitted softly.  “I freaked out all morning.   I tried to call you.  _You,_ you, before I realized I didn’t have your number. I almost didn’t come to meet, well, you.” Stiles fell quiet for a few moments, and Derek could feel his mouth tentatively come up and mouth against where his neck met his shoulder, teeth scraping gently.  Derek shuddered.

“I’m glad it’s you,” Stiles said.

“I’m glad it's you, too,” Derek said, wrapping his arms around Stiles' body and holding him tight. He never wanted to let him go. 

* * *

 

Derek never did let him go.  Or he hadn’t yet, and he wasn’t planning on it anytime soon, either.  He had been driving himself crazy at all the different proposal options that were open to him and which ones Stiles would like best. 

It had been three years since A Fox’s Tale closed, and Stiles was graduating early from Pacific Hills University with a double major in criminal justice and psychology and a minor in English. He was all signed up to start at the police academy the following month.  Stiles had declared that detective was his dream job.

Stiles still spent a lot of time at A Fox’s Tale, which now A Fox’s Tail Daycare.  Stiles had been really depressed to lose the pun of a name.  Kira had thrown her heart and soul into the place, and worked really hard to keep it as close to the old children’s store as possible. She had started off as a trainee and had worked up to assistant director under Piper Gold, the experienced daycare worker they had originally hired to start up the daycare. Stiles would come in and do Story Time with Stiles whenever he felt like. No one ever told him no.

Saying no to Stiles was notsomething Derek had yet accomplished, which was how he found himself as Isaac’s editor for his first book. When Stiles had talked to Derek about his decisions to go back to school and not straight to the police academy as Stiles and not Smartass for the first time, Stiles also brought up how he much he knew Derek wanted a break from his family’s business and try being an editor. Stiles had used very. . .persuasive means.  Isaac’s book was a big success, and he had written a few more since then.  Derek, however, had decided that children’s books were not for him, and ended up working for a company that published a lot of fantasy novels. Derek had found a niche for editing werewolf novels and working with the authors to get them to a selling point.  

Derek thought that his family was going to hate him for leaving the family business, but to his surprise, they were really supportive; although, Derek was pretty sure his mom was a little disappointed, but loved him too much to actually say anything.  It worked out really well, because after Derek and Boyd finished standardizing the new model of the store, Laura took the Beacon Hills Branch over, and Talia put Boyd in charge of overseeing the remodeling of the West Coast stores, leaving Derek to make a place in publishing.

Derek really loved his job as a book editor, and knew that he had Stiles to thank for that.  Although he loved his family and his old job, he found life and passion at work that he didn’t know that could exist.  That plus the passion between him and Stiles and the new friends he made in Beacon Hills, made Derek love life more than he ever had before. For once, he actually felt like he was living and not just going through the motions.

It wasn’t even his graduation, but Derek couldn’t be prouder or more excited to see Stiles walk down the aisle and receive his diploma. Stiles, of course, tripped going up the stairs, but managed to walk down them fine as he put the rock out symbol up in the hair with his right hand.  Next to Derek in the stands, the sheriff groaned and said, “That’s my kid.”

Derek could only think “That’s my boyfriend.” Proudly.

Stiles' graduation party was held at the sheriff and Melissa’s house.  A year ago, they announced that they were moving in together at the same exact dinner that Stiles and Derek announced they were.  It had been a mess of emotions.   Even though Derek knew his life had grown so much, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the people mingling in the backyard.  It was almost the same exact group of people that had attended A Fox’s Tale closing party three years ago.

Relationships weren’t exactly the same, Kira and Malia hadn’t lasted, whereas Cora and Isaac had surprised everyone by getting together and staying together, but they were all still family and friends.

Scott and Stiles were over by the bush by the side of the house, and Derek made his way over, curious to what they were doing.

Scott got bug-eyed when he saw Derek approaching. “May-day, May-day!” he stage-whispered frantically to Stiles.

Stiles turned around angrily. “What the fuck do you mean May-day, Scott?  We don’t have time for May- _oh,”_ he said as he saw Derek, and quickly put his hands behind his back.

“Hiiii, Derek,” Stiles said, smiling at him.

“Stiles,” Derek said, slowly lifting an eyebrow.  Stiles just smiled wider, so he turned to Scott.  “Scott.”

“Um, yeah.  I gotta go.  I think I hear my mom calling me.  Bye!” Scott said rushing off.

Stiles rolled his eyes and Derek tried not to laugh to keep his stoic façade to stare Stiles down.

“What’s behind your back?”

“My back?” Stiles asked innocently, looking behind him. “Nothing.”

“Stiles,” Derek warned, stepping closer to him.

“Derek,” Stiles chirped back, stepping backwards. Derek smiled predatorily at him as he backed Stiles up against the back of the house.  Derek placed his arms on either side of Stiles and leaned in. “What are you hiding behind your back, Stiles?”

“Nothing!”  Stiles squeaked out.

Derek brought his head closer and down until he was kissing Stiles, moving his hands down the side of Stile’s body until he grabbed Stiles’ hands, which was when Stiles realized what was happening and he jerked his head back, hitting it on the back of the house.

“Derek, don’t –OW, son of a bitch!”

Stiles and Derek struggled for a minute as Stiles clasped his arms together, to prevent Derek from seeing what was in them. Eventually, Derek flipped Stiles over and pinned his front against the house.

“Gotcha,” he whispered Stiles’ ear. He ran his hand down Stiles’ arms a tugged the boxes out of Stiles’ arms.  Stiles finally relented and released them, and Derek released Stiles.

“Derek, you don’t want to open those,” Stiles started to babble, but it was too late.  Derek had already popped a box open.

Inside, the back of a watch was displayed. Derek ran his thumb over the engraving. It was of a fox with the words “Marry me?”

“Yes,” Derek said, looking up at Stiles.

“Yes?” Stiles breathed out in wonder.

“You are asking, right?”  Derek asked him, hoping he didn’t read the situation wrong.

Stiles broke out into a fit of hysterical giggles. “Yes, I’m asking you to marry me, although this is not how it was supposed to go.  I had a plan.  It was going to be romantic and in front of all our friends and family.  I was going to make you cry, dammit.”

Derek shook his head and smiled. “I don’t care. All I care about is that we’re getting married.”

Stiles’ breath hitched.  “Fuck yeah, we are.”

“What’s in the other box?” Derek asked, opening that one.  Inside was a matching watch with an engraving of a wolf.

“That one’s mine.” Stiles explained. “Rings felt- like not the best option. And neither of us have really nice watches, and I’m the fox and you’re the wolf.  Get it?”

“Yeah,” Derek said, smiling as he slid Stiles’ watch onto Stiles’ wrist. “I get it.  You’re my fox.”

Stiles smiled brightly.  “You’re my wolf,” he replied, putting Derek’s watch on him.

Derek never did let him go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed it, and I want to thank you all so much for sticking with me!
> 
> Happy Sterekking!
> 
> (You can find me on Tumblr and Twitter under the same name)

**Author's Note:**

> Like I said the whole thing is written, so I'm hoping to have the whole thing published by August 10, but. . .I find editing really daunting, so we'll see! Thanks for reading! You can find me on tumblr and twitter under the same name!


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